The Bourne Recreancy
by ActingLovingAardvark
Summary: 15 years after The Bourne Legacy... Aaron and Marta have kept themselves safe and hidden as fishermen, living on a boat and flying under the radar, but Eric Byer is cunning. He's found something that will get them in his clutches once and for all... Their daughter, Kennedy. When you think you know it all, it's shocking to discover you know nothing.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not own The Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hello! Did you love the new Bourne movie – The Bourne Legacy? I did… SO VERY MUCH. Yet, were you unsatisfied with the ending? I was! So, just being me, I came up with an idea on how the movie could be continued. And thus, this FanFiction was… bourne ;)**

**I just came up with this idea in my head. I don't even know if more Aaron Cross movies will be coming, so any similarities between this story and ANYTHING being written or thought of is purely coincidental. **

**I hope you enjoy. Just a recap from the summary – this takes place fifteen years after The Bourne Legacy…**

* * *

The man rolled the thin silver video camera between his hands, smiling to himself, thinking of the memories this small device held. He walked down to the lower deck of his modest-sized boat, where the rooms were located, passing the bedrooms, bathroom, and kitchen, until he reached the final room on the right. It was a laboratory of sorts, with tables holding computers and advanced devices that only the most brilliant of scientists could comprehend.

It was a good thing that a brilliant scientist was sitting before him.

Her back was to him, and her dark brown hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head. She was engrossed in her work in front of her, glancing into a microscope and scribbling down notes.

The man smiled, and began to walk towards the woman.

"You know you can't sneak up on me anymore, Aaron," she murmured as she continued to write.

Aaron Cross reached Marta and let out a low chuckle, planting a kiss on her temple. She stopped what she was doing and turned to look up at him.

"You know, if you keep distracting me, I'll never get my work done," she muttered, but Aaron could see her lips turn up at the corner.

"And what exactly is it that you're working on?" he asked her, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Aaron and Marta had been brought together by fate. When Aaron was involved with Operation Outcome, a Department of Defense black ops program, Marta was a doctor he visited. She studied him, did his blood work, and ran tests because since he was in Outcome, he was enhanced physically and mentally by "chems". The chems were green pills that affected him physically and blue pills that affected him mentally.

When Jason Bourne, an agent involved with the Treadstone Project (another black ops program), exposed Treadstone and Operation Blackbriar, Operation Outcome was intended to be terminated. All involved with the program were intended to be killed. Aaron had avoided being destroyed by the missile of a Predator drone, and after that he went to save Marta. She had survived the shooting of her crazed colleague Dr. Donald Foite, who was brainwashed to eliminate Marta, all of the other Outcome scientists, and then kill himself. Aaron had lost the chems keeping him stable, so he requested Marta's help to get him more.

After saving her from CIA agents that tried to kill her in her home, she revealed to him that he had been "viralled off" of the green chems, which means that his physical enhancements were permanent. If Marta could viral him off of the blue pills, then he would no longer need them. So, the pair traveled to Manila in the Philippines, where the labs with the viruses were. Marta managed to give Aaron the virus, but he fell very ill because of it. If you add the fact that they had the CIA on their tail the entire time, it made for a very tricky experience.

But the two came out on top. Aaron was viralled off, they survived and attack from an assassin, and they escaped on a fishing boat. Their romance had begun to blossom as they traveled, but when they were alone, it grew into something _so much stronger_.

"Well…" Marta drawled. "I'm just taking the last of the notes of your blood sample."

Aaron sighed. "Does that mean I have to give another sample, doc?"

She smiled again. "No. _You're_ fine. I do need another sample from Kennedy, though."

He chuckled. "Ooh. She's not going to like that."

Now it was Marta's turn to sigh. "No. No she's not."

_Kennedy_. Kennedy June Cross. Their fifteen year old daughter. Her name was something they came up with - Aaron's original name was Kenneth, and since she was a girl, they made it Kennedy. June was her middle name, in reference to Marta's alias, June Monroe.

Kennedy wasn't planned for, at first. She was something that just… happened. With the type of life they lived, Aaron and Marta were terrified at the thought of bringing a child into the world. How would she fare, growing up and constantly being on the move? And, what would the child be like? Would he or she inherit the altered chromosomes found in her father's DNA?

Aaron knew he had to protect the woman he loved and their unborn child, so he did what he thought was best. He bought a boat. He kept the money he had stored away. He took up fishing as a trade, and both he and Marta spent most of their time out in the water, keeping under the radar so they wouldn't be found. Kennedy was born on the sea.

She was a beautiful baby, and had her father's blue-grey eyes and dark blonde hair. Marta was still worried about her chromosomal make-up, though. She ran tests on her little daughter as soon as she thought it would be safe.

It turned out that yes, Kennedy did inherit Aaron's altered chromosomes, and that they were dominant. She didn't require any chems to keep her stable - it was like she was born viralled off. Marta was glad that she figured this out, but secretly she was saddened that her daughter barely looked like her.

Aaron noticed that Marta was upset by this, but they both came to a revelation. As Kennedy got older, they found that she had her mother's wit and determination. She loved to just sit and watch her mother work, even if she had no idea what she was working on. Marta taught Kennedy herself, and she always paid attention to her mother when she was learning.

She and her mother were very close. The only thing Kennedy didn't like about her mother's work was when she needed to draw blood. She wasn't fond of needles. Alas, Marta made it a priority to constantly check the state of her blood and her chromosomes.

Other than the usual debacle over taking blood, the three were very close. Marta and Kennedy were Aaron's life. They were all he had, and he swore he would do anything to protect them.

"She's not going to be very cooperative," Marta said. "Especially since I just took it last week."

Aaron took her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips.

"We'll make it work," he told her when they broke apart. "We always do."

Breathless by the surprise show of passion, she smiled at him.

"It's past nine. Should I wake Kennedy up?" he asked her.

"That would probably be best," Marta breathed, turning back to the microscope.

With one last lingering kiss on her cheek, Aaron left the room and headed back down the hall. The first room on the left was Kennedy's. He approached the door, turned the knob, and walked in very quietly to not wake her. She was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling with every breath. Her legs were tangled in her purple bed sheets, and her dark blonde hair was draped over her face.

Aaron smiled to himself and walked into her room. He lightly rustled her shoulder.

"Kennedy..." he said.

Her eyes flew open in shock, and her fist blindly flew out as a reflex. She was quick, and Aaron's hand flew up in time to deflect the punch.

"Easy, easy," Aaron murmured, lowering her arm as she sat up. "It's just dad. It's just me."

She groaned. "Dad, you know you can't sneak up on me like that!"

She pushed her hair out of her eyes as he laughed. "Nice reflex. Well, you learned defense from the best."

In a child-like manner, Kennedy stuck out her tongue out at her father.

Since there was always a risk of them being found by the CIA, Aaron thought it would be a good idea to teach her self-defense and how to fight. Ever since she was nine, he had trained her to be the best fighter she could be. She was stronger than any child her age, thanks to her enhancement, and with that she was quick. Her mental enhancement made her cunning and calculating when attacking. As she grew up, she became more of a challenge for Aaron to fight, but given his age he always had an advantage.

When she started training, she always had many questions for Aaron, being such a curios nine-year-old.

"_Daddy?" she asked one time. "Why are you teaching me how to fight? I'm little."_

_Aaron gave her a small smile. "I'm teaching you how to fight because I want you to be safe in case something bad happens to you."_

_Her big grey eyes looked into his. "But why would something back happen to me? I'm a good girl. Right daddy?"_

_Aaron couldn't help but laugh as he knelt down to be at her eye level. "Yes, you're a good girl, but… Mommy and I have had bad things happen to us in the past. We've dealt with evil people."_

"_What kind of evil people?"_

_Aaron sighed. "That isn't really important, but what is important is that in the case that something from our past does come back to cause us trouble, I want you to be ready. Learning how to protect yourself will help you to be prepared."_

"_But you are going to protect me… and mommy, too. Right?" Kennedy questioned. _

_Aaron kissed his daughter on the top of her head. "Of course. I always will."_

_Kennedy beamed at him, and threw her little arms around his neck. "I love you daddy."_

"_And I love you, Kennedy."_

Aaron pulled himself out of his thoughts. "It's after nine. You need to get some breakfast, and then I need you to run some errands on the mainland."

Kennedy's face lit up at the thought of getting off the boat, even if for a little while. Later last night, Aaron had docked in the city of Manila. While they stayed mostly on their boat, this was where they docked to sell fish and restock on necessities.

Kennedy was the one who went out into the market, so Aaron and Marta could keep a low profile. Along with that, since Kennedy wasn't born in a hospital and didn't have official records... She was almost a ghost. Of course, Aaron had fake passports and certificates made for her if something went wrong, but she wasn't known to the CIA. They couldn't track any of her records or forms because she _had none_. It kept her safer. Kennedy June Cross was a secret.

"Sounds good to me," she told her father, and sprung out of bed, heading towards the bathroom.

Her father chuckled as she passed, and went back to speak with Marta.

"She's up," Aaron told her. "The promise of getting out had her running."

Marta laughed. "Of _course_ it did... and did you happen to mention I had to take a blood sample?"

Before Aaron could even open his mouth to respond, Marta chimed in.

"Oh wait, you didn't. Because I can hear down the hall," she muttered.

That small smile graced her face once more.

"When Kennedy complains that I didn't her a fair warning for the drawing, I'll have your head, Aaron Cross," she joked.

"Whatever you say," he replied, laughing as he made his way to the upper deck.

The sun was out and shining, reflecting off the water, and the air was very humid. Aaron walked to his small wooden table that sat in the open, gathering the maps that marked the travel patterns of the ship and stowing them away, out of sight. He checked the large net towards the stern of the ship, pulling the stray ends out of the water.

He heard talking, and both Marta and Kennedy made their way onto the upper deck. Kennedy dressed herself in a navy blue dress with her favorite brown sandals that her mother had bought her. She had a grey bag slung across her torso, and a miniature box of cereal in her hand.

"You're not going to eat anything more substantial than that?" Aaron asked his daughter.

"Dad, this is fine," she told him. "I can eat it on my way."

Marta laughed. "Anxious to leave, are we? Are you really _that_ tired of us?"

"You know I'd _never_ get sick of you guys," she replied with a giggle.

Although Aaron smiled, hearing her say that saddened him in the slightest. Kennedy had never had a child her age as a companion, and that made her independent and able to entertain herself, yet friendless. That was part of the normal childhood he wished he could have given his daughter.

When he looked into Marta's eyes, he could tell that she was thinking the same thing.

Kennedy glanced between the two of them, her eyebrows raised, knowing there was some sort of unspoken communication. She was close to her parents, and prided herself on being able to almost always tell how they were feeling. It was just like how she knew that when the two held hands, there was deep intimacy there. Her father had told her that bad things had happened to the two of them, but that was in the past. Yet, she couldn't help wonder what exactly _had_ happened. Was their romance forbidden by family? She had no idea.

"Do you have a list of what we need from the city?" Aaron asked her.

"Yes. Mom made me one... of course," Kennedy said with a goofy grin towards her mother.

"Bite your tongue! Just admit it, you'd be _helplessly_ confused in that market without one of my lists," Marta joked.

"Oh, yes!" Kennedy said dramatically, raising her hand to her forehead in a theatrical manner. "I don't know _what_ I'd do!"

While Kennedy had not spent time around kids her age, she had developed spunk on her own. Her outgoing nature was refreshing for her more subdued parents.

Her mother crossed her arms and rolled her eyes as she smiled. Kennedy gave her and her father a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed down the dock and towards the city.

"Hurry back," Aaron called out, "and stay safe."

Kennedy laughed as she walked on. "I always do."

"We love you!" Marta called out.

"Love you, too," Kennedy murmured, not looking back.

So on she went, her parents watching her every move. As she got farther and farther away, Aaron couldn't help but notice a strange feeling in his stomach, like something seemed wrong...

* * *

**So… what did you think? I promise they'll be more action to come. This chapter was mainly for introducing you to the different time, and to show how Aaron has changed. I promise, though, that the Outcome side of him isn't going **_**anywhere**_**.**

**Things should get exciting next chapter. Hopefully you'll stick around to see! Leave me a review to let me know what you think of this story. Thanks! :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I do not own The Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Wow, I wasn't expecting to see this many reviews! Thanks to caseyrn12, Jellybelly Puffypants, LadyAvi, the Guest, icewitch73, and the Anon. I'm glad you guys like this idea and the lovely pairing that is Aaron Cross and Marta Shearing ;D**

**As promised, here is the action of chapter two...**

* * *

Eric Byer entered the control room, his entourage following behind him and seating themselves at the numerous computers. On the large screens in front of them was the footage of six security cameras.

"Someone get on line five to keep in touch with the agents we sent in," he called out.

It had been fifteen years since the ordeal with Aaron Cross, and he and his team had been searching for him and the doctor Marta Shearing since. Those years had definitely taken a toll on him. There were well-defined wrinkles set into his forehead, and numerous grey hairs on his head. All of the stress he had faced made him fatigued, yet he was still determined and tough.

Since Cross and Shearing had pretty much disappeared off the grid since the LARX-3 assassin had failed to kill them, they had been impossible to locate. He had long since worked on other various projects, but the situation with Cross had come up in his mind from time to time.

"I've got line five covered," Arthur Ingram said, adjusting his glasses.

"The agents have reached the city and are on foot," Dita Mandy told Byer as she brushed a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes.

Byer, stroking his chin, walked forward to get a better view of the screens. His eyes moved back and forth between the six, scanning every person that happened to move on them.

"Were the agents informed of the target's physical appearance?" he asked no one in particular.

"Yes," Mandy said. "They were all shown security footage of her."

"And how old would _that_ be? Two months? Three? She could look completely different for all we know," Byer spat. "Couldn't you all have done any better?"

"It's all we have, sir," Mandy muttered. "She's pretty much a ghost."

He sighed and turned his attention back to the monitors.

"Everyone, take a look at screen four," Ingram called out.

Byer's gaze darted to the first screen in the bottom row of three, looking until he saw exactly the person he wanted to.

"Take a screenshot of that, and send the agents into camera four's proximity immediately," he said loud and clear so everyone could hear him. "Get the screenshot onto the main monitor."

Byer turned to his right, where the large screen was located.

"There she is," he murmured.

Her gaze turned to the camera, the grey-eyed girl stood out in the midst of the people who looked nothing like her.

Byer had made a breakthrough.

In the marketplace in Manila, Kennedy glanced up at a security camera. She wondered why the various cameras were even necessary. Out of all the times she had been here, there had never been any commotion or the slightest indication of theft that she saw, and she prided herself on being a very observant person. Kennedy shrugged to herself and continued on her way.

_I guess there are things that go on here that I can't even see_, she thought to herself.

Kennedy walked over to one of her favorite vendors, an elderly woman who made dresses. She sewed them herself out of beautifully colored fabrics. Kennedy's favorite dress, the blue one she was wearing now, was created by the incredibly gifted woman.

She walked close to the stand, and when the woman saw her, she smiled at Kennedy. Kennedy smiled back.

"How are you? _Paano ka_?" she asked the woman in both English and Filipino.

"_Mabuti_," she replied, which meant that she was good.

Kennedy had learned how to speak Filipino from her father. They thought it would be wise for her to be fluent, since she was the one going on the mainland and doing the family's buying. He was fluent in several different languages, which she found fascinating. Kennedy wanted to speak in all different kinds of tongues, just like him.

Kennedy walked along the woman's stand, running her hands along the cloth dresses that hung there. Bright colors dominated the selection. After looking at them, she found a set of scarves. They came in the bright colors, like the dresses, but then there were less flamboyant choices... Pale blues, greens, yellows, and even some grey ones.

She continued to walk, but stop in her tracks when she saw a pale pink scarf. It was a baby pink, so light that it was almost white, with darker pink stitching.

Kennedy wanted to buy the scarf for her mother. In the past, she had brought her mother home clothing as a present. Once, she had noticed that her wardrobe lacked any color, so to surprise her, she bought a _very_ bright purple shirt. Her mother usually accepted all of her gifts, yet she politely declined this one. Kennedy was heartbroken that she didn't want it, but Marta just said she didn't like to draw attention to herself.

"Why?" Kennedy had asked. "Don't you want to stand out and be noticed sometimes?"

Her mother sighed and gave her daughter a small smile. "It's just better for me if I blend in."

Kennedy slid the fabric of the scarf between her thumb and index finger, smiling to herself. This scarf held a subtle beauty, and she hoped that her mom would like it. She grabbed it and went to the old woman, showing her the scarf and giving her the proper amount of Philippine pesos to pay for it.

"_Salamat_," the woman said simply, a word of thanks.

Kennedy smiled at her and went on her way, tucking the scarf into her brown bag along with the items she had already bought for her mother and father. She pulled the list out, and looked over the list to see what was still left to get. Kennedy knew that she had to buy the rest of the things and get on her way before her parents got worried. They always got upset if she was gone too long... They were _so_ overprotective.

Kennedy passed stands upon stands carrying more things than one could imagine, but when she passed a stand displaying fresh produce, a boy caught her eye. He was a Filipino boy, with dark hair and dark blue eyes. The boy looked to be her age, and when he saw her he grinned. Shyly, she smiled back. Kennedy found this boy vaguely familiar, and she was sure she had seen him here at least once or twice before.

_Why not go talk to him?_ she thought to herself.

Before she could really make her way over to him, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to the side. As a reflex, she balled her hand into a fist, ready to strike.

"Kennedy, it's me," he father said.

"Dad!" she hissed, turning to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"You need to listen to me, okay?" he told her. "Keep your head down and follow me. Quickly."

She was confused, but went along with him obediently as he held her hand and pulled her through the market crowd.

"What's going on?" she questioned. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Now keep moving," he told her sharply.

What wasn't he telling her? "Is it mom? Is she okay?"

"She will be if we keep moving," her dad said.

Now Kennedy was frustrated. "What the heck, dad? Why are you being so cryptic?"

He turned to look at her, putting his hands on her shoulders and crouching down so he could be at her eye level.

"Kennedy, you need to listen to me, okay?" he told her, glancing around the area as he spoke. "I have been leading you in the direction of the boat. I need you to run there as quickly as you can. You have to meet your mother, and the two of you need to get out of there right away. There's no time to grab things, you just have to go."

What her father was telling her filled her with dread.

"What's happening?" she whispered, but Aaron had no trouble hearing her.

"Bad things are happening, and I need you and your mother to get to safety. You two are my main concern," he said to her.

Suddenly, it clicked in Kennedy's head. Mommy and I have had bad things happen to us in the past. We've dealt with evil people.

"This has to do with you and mom doesn't it?" she asked. "Your past?"

She was met with silence.

"Dad... What did you guys _do_?"

Aaron frowned. "That isn't important right now. What's important is getting you and your mother to where you will be secure. I'm going to take a separate path - it's me they'll want now - and you'll go to your mother. I'll find you two later."

Kennedy vigorously shook her head. "No, I don't like this. You can't go off by yourself!"

He grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze. "I have to, okay? You've got to do this for me. You're like your mother - you're a little warrior. Go to the boat, alright? She'll be there. I love you, you can do this."

"No, dad!" she pleaded as he gave her a kiss on the forehead and moved away into the crowds.

"Kennedy, trust me! _GO_!" he shouted, and then he was gone.

Her throat felt clenched and dry, but she did as she was told. She took off and ran.

Kennedy darted through the crowds, arms outstretched. She earned furious remarks from the people she had accidentally shoved, but she ignored them. Her brown bag was repeatedly hitting her in the hip as she moved.

She got to the upper level area by the docks, which was a large platform area that overlooked the boats below. A large staircase led to the docks, and her boat was down there and to the right. There was a similar platform-type area to the left, but it had a building with a walkway along the edge.

The platform had an incredible view, but that meant nothing to Kennedy now. She focused on her sandals slapping against the pavement, her heart hammering in her chest. Her mother was waiting for her on the boat, and she had to get to her.

She saw her family's boat off in the distance. If she sprinted now, she get there quickly, like he father told her to.

Kennedy was close to the stairs when she heard the boom and watched the boat explode.

She found herself screaming, running to the edge of the platform, leaning against the railing in disbelief. Her family's boat, their _home_, was destroyed. _Up in flames_.

And her mother was inside.

Kennedy couldn't stop screaming as the tears welled up in her eyes. Her mother was inside. Her mother was inside. Those words repeated in her head.

Did her dad hear the explosion?

Help. She needed to get help if there was any chance she could rescue her mother. Kennedy clung to the hope that her mother, somehow, survived the blast.

But who could she turn to when her father had told her to escape? Was the city any safer?

Kennedy's world had come crumbling down around her in a mere matter of minutes. Her mother was dead - she couldn't kid with herself - and her father was off outrunning whatever he had sent her away from.

In a tear-filled, hysteria-induced daze, Kennedy began to move towards the stairs, towards the boat, towards where her mother's burning body was. She wasn't thinking clearly.

Yet, someone wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her back from the unsafe situation. Had her father found her? _Had_ he heard the explosion?

"Dad?" she asked, turning around. But it wasn't her father's face that she was met with. Two men in suits faced her. Who the hell were _they_?

Kennedy thought of her father's training, automatically throwing a punch at the man's jaw. He flew back, landing on the concrete with an audible thunk. She always was strong for her age.

The second suited man lunged at her, but she dodged him quickly, which caused him to run into the railing. She turned to deliver a kick to his back, but he spun around so quickly that her foot only reached his shin. He grabbed her wrist, but this time she delivered a much stronger kick to his stomach. The force of the impact flung him back, back, into the railing and then over it, falling head first to the docks below.

Something unexpected happened to Kennedy. She felt a prick in her upper arms. She turned around to find that the first man she had knocked down was not only up, but had a now empty syringe in his hand. He had _injected_ her with something.

Suddenly, her vision clouded. One second and she was out.

* * *

**I promised action… did I deliver enough?**

**What happened to Marta and Aaron? What will happen to Kennedy? You'll just have to wait and find out. Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Many thanks :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**I love the support I'm getting for this story! All the reviews make me smile and when I see someone sign up for story alert, it makes my day! So thanks to my reviewers: MsGirlygirl19, caseyrn12, LadyAvi, icewitch73, MaraJade4S, omg (possibly retwin?), nastone, and fixitright2nd. **

**DID YOU GUYS HEAR THAT THEY'RE MAKING A SEQUEL TO THE BOUNRE LEGACY? I'm so excited! Well, this story will become irrelevant when it comes out, but I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! **

* * *

Aaron saw the boat explode. He saw the flames and smoke rise into the air, and heard Kennedy's screams of agony. He was on the platform opposite of her, on the walkway, hiding in the shadows. Just before the explosion, he had escaped a chase with CIA agents.

Now he was looking at the remains of his boat home. The agony crippled him, ripped a hole in his chest.

Marta was _in_ the boat. He had told her to stay there, and she was gone... because of _him_.

How could he be so stupid, so naive? He should have brought her with him, gotten Kennedy, and then gone his separate way to distract the agents. Marta and Kennedy could have run off together, gotten somewhere safe.

But now Marta was dead... because of his poor planning.

He needed to get to Kennedy. She and him needed to get away, and he needed to protect her - he couldn't fail her. Yet, all he wanted to do was scream. His fist flew into the side of the building, crunching the bricks from the impact.

"Shh, careful," someone behind him murmured, putting their hands on his shoulders. "We need to go get Kennedy."

Aaron whirled around, and was awestruck. Marta was standing right before him. She looked slightly disheveled, several wisps of hair loose from her bun, and she has a small black backpack over her shoulders.

He grabbed her in his arms, planting a long kiss to her forehead.

"I didn't listen to you. I couldn't stand being on the boat while it was just you going off to find Kennedy," she told him. "So I grabbed several things, put them into this backpack, and ran. I had gotten far enough away when the boat exploded."

"Thank god you got away," he whispered, and Marta kissed him on the cheek, but then Kennedy let out another scream and her face showed her fear.

They both turned to look at her, and she was still completely distraught over the explosion... but Aaron and Marta became the distraught ones when they saw two CIA agents approach her from behind.

Aaron cursed, and Marta grabbed his hand.

"Let's go!" she shouted at him, and then pulled him along as they began to run.

Marta really _was_ a warrior, especially when it came to their daughter.

The two sprinted along the marina, racing towards the platform were Kennedy was being ambushed. They took large strides, running as fast as their well-toned legs could carry them. As they went, they saw Kennedy deliver a kick to one of the agents, and he went toppling over the railing. But what she didn't see, as she attacked him, that the other agent was up and grabbing something from his jacket.

It was a syringe.

Aaron didn't have a chance to yell a warning before the agent stabbed Kennedy in the arm. She turned around to look at her attacker, and in the next few seconds she collapsed into the agent's arms. He draped her over his shoulder and began to run off.

Aaron disconnected his hand with Marta's and reached into his jacket for his shotgun, which he was incredibly grateful he had grabbed before the boat had blown up.

"What are you doing?" Marta questioned as they continued to run.

"I'm going to take him down," Aaron muttered. His plan was simple: if he shot the agent in the leg, it would slow him down. Then, he and Marta could grab Kennedy and get the hell out of Manila.

"Don't!" Marta yelled. "If you miss, you'll hit Kennedy!"

Aaron let out a bitter laugh. "You think I'd miss?"

"Well, I don't know! It _has_ been almost fifteen years since you've had to shoot-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the pair saw five other agents appear. Aaron swore under his breath as one of them met the lone man and grabbed Kennedy, taking her away.

"_Now_ can I shoot?" Aaron yelled.

Marta nodded, breathlessly, and Aaron fired. His first shots hit the first agent, the one who had first attacked Kennedy, and with a cry of pain he fell to the ground. This sent the other agents into a frenzy, knowing someone was now on their tail...

Eric Byer was in the control room, listening to the madness unfold on speaker phone.

"Our second agent is down, we are under fire!" one of his men shouted. "Someone's near and got a leg up on us!"

"Do you see the shooter? Who are they?" Byer asked.

"We don't know, we don't know!" the agent shouted. "We can't see anyone!"

Byer leaned close to the speaker and spoke as clearly as he could.

"You know your objective. Get to the car, keep the girl safe," he said. "I don't care _what_ you have to do, just get her out of there. You have permission to shoot your attacker. _Kill on sight_. Do you understand?"

"Understood, sir," the agent muttered. His reply was followed by the sound of more gunshots and a strangled yelp.

"Another agent is down!" Byer heard, and he crossed his arms. There was no doubt in his mind that Aaron Cross was the shooter, if he was managing to stay out of the agent's sight. Cross's attack was reassuring that the girl was the right one. He hadn't necessarily planned on taking out Cross at this stage, but he would take what he could get. And, once Cross was terminated, Shearing would be that much easier to capture. After fifteen years, the remaining shreds of Outcome would finally be terminated…

Aaron merged with the shadows, firing his gun, keeping out of the agent's sight. Marta hid behind him, her hand on his arm. This gave him a sense of comfort, knowing that even after fifteen years, they were still in this together.

"We need to follow them, see where they take her," he told Marta, "and figure out how and where they're transporting her. If we stay on their tail we can snatch her back before they get where they need to go."

She nodded, reaching back into her backpack. He didn't see what she had grabbed before he took off running. Marta followed behind him, watching the way he stuck to the shadows and mimicking it herself. In silence, they moved along, making their way back towards the city. They saw the agents begin to disperse into the crowd of people, many of which were running towards the docks. Either their attention was grabbed by the sound of the explosion or the view of smoke beginning to billow in the air. A pang of sadness struck her as it really sunk in that the boat she had called home for the past fifteen years was gone.

Marta pushed those feeling aside and continued to move behind Aaron, grabbing his hand so she wouldn't be separated from him. His calloused hand gave hers a squeeze, and she felt the connection they always shared.

"Over there!" Aaron said, pointing with his free hand to a white van that sat near several street vendors. The remaining agents were still carrying Kennedy, and two of them took her into the back of the van and shut the doors behind them. The other two ran to the front, climbed in, and started up the engine.

Aaron began to run faster, pulling Marta along. She lifted her right hand, which held what she had grabbed earlier: a small camera. Marta snapped pictures of the van, and when she was in view she took a picture of the license plate.

The van began to drive away, and there was no way to follow it...

Unless Aaron took a motorbike from a street vendor on the corner.

Thoughts of the chase to outrun LARX-3 through these same streets crossed through his mind. He found it ironic that he was resulting to this once more.

Aaron jumped onto the bike, Marta following right behind him, and handed her the helmet. He started up the bike and drove off, hearing the vendor's angry protests as he got farther away.

"This seems to be a habit of ours," Marta yelled to him, and he couldn't help but laugh.

He sped faster through the streets until the van was in sight. The two back doors had small square windows, but since they were tinted Aaron couldn't get a good view of what was going on inside. He glanced over and saw the reflection of the man in the passenger seat in the side-view mirror. Aaron accelerated so he could move towards the side of the van, but in doing so he caught the attention of the van's passengers.

The agent in the passenger seat tried to quickly spring his upper body out of the window, shotgun aimed, but Aaron was too quick. He fired three quick shots that hit the man right in the head, and in the mirror Aaron could see him slump down in the front seat. The agent was gone.

"Hold on tight," Aaron said to Marta. "I expect some retaliation."

He felt her arms around his waist tighten. Aaron kept one hand controlling the bike, his gun poised in the other. Yet, nothing happened. He stared into that side-view mirror and all he saw was the dead agent. There was no movement. What could they possibly be doing in that car? Were they not going to fight back?

As the two vehicles approached a bridge that rose over the streets below, Aaron had no choice to keep following the vehicle if he wanted hope of getting his daughter back. He couldn't shoot the vehicle itself or the agent driving it - if that happened, the van could go out of control and Kennedy could get hurt. Aaron couldn't risk that.

Suddenly, something flew out from the passenger side window and flew back towards the bike. Marta reached out and caught it in her hand. It was the light pink scarf, the one Kennedy had bought as a gift for her. Of course, Marta had no idea of knowing that. Kennedy had never had to chance to give it to her mother.

"A scarf?" Aaron asked. "Is that Kennedy's?"

"I don't know," Marta said truthfully. "I don't recognize it."

This both perplexed Aaron and made him furious. He didn't remember Kennedy leaving the boat with a scarf, but she could have bought it in the market today with the money he had given her. If that was the case, _what were they doing to her_? Raiding her bag? Stealing her clothing?

When Aaron drove onto the bridge and moved to the outmost right lane, Marta noticed something on the scarf.

"Wait," she called out. "There's a little note attached. It says-"

Aaron didn't have enough time to dodge the sneaky shot that was fired from the van. The bullet didn't hit him or Marta, but sunk into the front tire of the motorbike. The tire exploded with a loud pop, and the bike lurched forward because of the altered balance. Aaron tried to maintain control, but he and Marta skidded to the side and crashed into the side wall of the bridge. The force of the impact sent the two off of the bike…

And over the bridge.

"Aaron!" Marta screamed.

He wrapped his arms around the woman he loved, pulling her close to him as they tumbled over the edge and towards the city below.

* * *

**Yay, so Marta is alive! Haha, like I could just kill her off (her dying would cause me to be an emotional wreck). But what will happen to Aaron and Marta? Where is Kennedy going to end up? You'll just have to wait to find out!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**My reviewers are the best :D So thank you to caseyrn12, icewitch73, MsGirlygirl19, Deangirl93, fixitright2nd, doc, and Leroy J for taking the time to review!**

* * *

_Previously:_**  
**

_Aaron tried to maintain control, but he and Marta skidded to the side and crashed into the side wall of the bridge. The force of the impact sent the two off of the bike…_

_And over the bridge._

"_Aaron!" Marta screamed._

_He wrapped his arms around the woman he loved, pulling her close to him as they tumbled over the edge and towards the city below._

They fell down, towards the people and market beneath them. Marta clenched her eyes shut when Aaron wrapped her arms around her, and she tucked her head into his shoulder. She didn't notice that they were falling right above someone's fruit stand.

But Aaron knew.

He rotated the two so she was above him, and when they hit the cloth of the pop-up tent, it slowed down their fall ever so slightly. The impact of their bodies caused them the crash through, and Aaron felt his back land in a wooden crate of fruits.

He tried to regain his breath, his vision slightly blurred, as Marta whimpered beside him. The smell of squished mangoes overwhelmed him.

"Aaron? Aaron, are you alright?" he heard Marta ask. He nodded his head and slowly sat up, gently shaking his head to try and clear it. When he looked at Marta, tears were beginning to well in her eyes.

"The van. I... I lost it... They got away," she stammered.

Aaron reached for her, but then he saw her arm.

"You're hurt," he said. A long cut extended down the side of her arm, and upon closer inspection, he saw numerous splinters sticking out of her skin.

"I don't care," she muttered, and her tears started streaming down her face.

A crowd was gathering, and the shocked stand owner was standing there, jaw-dropped. He began to shout in Filipino, and Aaron knew madness would ensue. Grabbing Marta's hand, he helped her climb off the boxes, but when he stood on his own two feet pain wracked his body.

"You _are_ hurt," she said.

"Like you said, _I don't care_," he told her, and he began to pull her through the crowd. Aaron knew that he and Marta had to go through the city and to where the bridge let out, but as he started to jog he could feel the pain in his back.

Marta shook her head. "We need to see what's wrong with you, and maybe I should run some water over my cut or something-"

"No. We need to go find Kennedy and-"

"Where will we go? _Where_?" Marta screamed. "We lost them, they've got her, and we have no idea where they're headed! She's gone..."

Marta began to sob, and Aaron pulled her over to the sidewalk, out of the way of the many pedestrians of Manila.

"Marta, look at me!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders. Her red, puffy eyes met his. "She is not gone, do you hear me? She is not _gone_. We will get her back."

Tears continued to stream down her face, and Aaron sighed.

"I hope you have money in that backpack of yours," he said quietly.

She was sniffling, but gave him a nod anyways.

He placed a kiss to her forehead. "Then let's find a hotel room somewhere, and get you cleaned up. We'll make a plan."

She said nothing, but reached forward and grabbed his hands. Marta was broken, and he knew it. He had to be strong for her... for her and for Kennedy...

**-oOo-**

As Aaron and Marta made their way to a place to stay, the remaining three agents in the van maneuvered through the streets. One drove, one watched out the back window, and the third watched the girl they had been sent in to capture. He wondered what was so important about this teenager that they had to lose four of their men in order to get her.

"I think we've lost 'em," the window-watcher told the other agents. "They went over the side of that bridge, and I haven't seen 'em back behind us."

The driver spoke into his earpiece.

"We've lost our pursuers," he said. "They went over the bridge."

Eric Byer stood in his control room, and exchanged a look with Mandy. He knew what Aaron Cross was capable of. There had been a time before when they thought he was dead, and the next thing he knew they see him boarding a plane to Manila under an alias.

"And are you positive you've lost them?" Byer questioned.

"Well, I don't think anyone could survive that fall," the agent told him.

"I don't give a damn what you think," Byer muttered. "Assume nothing. Keep your eyes open, and be prepared for anything."

That would be all he needed. The operation would be a failure because the agents thought they were safe.

"Yes sir," he heard the agent say.

"You know the next step," Byer said. "Arrive at the set location, switch vehicles, and travel to the private airstrip."

So the agents drove, in silence, through the city until the buildings were small spots in the distance. Other cars passed by less and less, and the sun sunk into the sky. Night fell, and it was pitch black when the van pulled into the parking lot adjacent to a small rest stop building. It was deserted, except for a lone black Mercedes. The driver pulled up next to it and turned the key in the ignition, shutting off the van.

One of the agents in the back opened the doors and climbed out. The other scooped the still unconscious Kennedy into his arms and carried her out.

"God, she hasn't moved once. When is she gonna wake up?" the one agent asked.

The second agent looked down at Kennedy. "That injection they gave her is incredibly powerful. She won't stir until they give her the other injection."

"The other injection?"

"Yes. The one that reverses the first," he said.

As they spoke, the third agent looked over to the passenger side and got his first full look at his dead teammate. The three bullet holes in his head oozed with blood and other bodily matter. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat at the sight. Yes, he was an agent for the CIA, but he was still human.

He had been instructed to leave any bodies behind, and he knew better to break any rules.

The third agent joined the two others and they all entered the Mercedes. They put Kennedy in the back seat, trying to position her to look as if she was sleeping. Being late, the excuse seemed plausible. After she was in place, they group rolled out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

"I assume you know where to go now?" Byer said into the third agent's earpiece.

"Yes sir," he replied, never taking his eyes off the long, empty road in front of him.

"Then I suggest you hurry and get there," Byer told him. "The more of a time advantage you have, the better."

"Yes sir," he repeated, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice. He needed to focus, for all he could see was the vision of the dead agent that remained in the van.

Yes, the agents would have time on their side, but not so much of an advantage. In order to get out of the area quickly, they had missed an important detail. They had been trained to disable these things when it was necessary.

A small, still working security camera was attached to the roof of the rest stop building… and it had captured everything.

**-oOo-**

Marta dabbed the wet washcloth on her cut, trying to wash away the blood that had already dried on her arm and stop the rest from flowing. She and Aaron had taken up temporary residence in a small room, much like the one they stayed in fifteen years ago. She took a look at herself in the little oval mirror on the wall and took in her brown eyes, which were still red and puffy. It was hard for her not to burst out in tears merely because of her awful appearance, but she held back the tears.

She had done enough crying. It was time to toughen up.

Marta heard the knob of the door turn, and instinctively she grabbed the handgun that was in front of her perched on the edge of the sink. She held it tightly in her hands, finger poised on the trigger.

"You're fine, you're fine," Aaron murmured, and relief flooded through her to find it was only him. She lowered the gun, letting it slip from her hand and fall to the floor with a clunk.

"I got some bandages for your arm," he said to her, holding them up and showing her.

She glanced down at her arm. The abrupt movement had caused it to start bleeding again. Marta reached forward to take the bandages from his hand, but he shook his head and grabbed the washcloth she had been using. He wiped the blood from her arm and started to wrap it. Marta looked at his face, watching him as he focused intently on evenly dressing the wound.

When he had enough of the bandage, he easily tore it and fastened it with a clip from his pocket. Aaron left his hand on her arm for a few seconds, and Marta grabbed it. She held his hand like a lifeline, and he gave hers a squeeze.

"We need to clean you up, too," she murmured, taking the washcloth and running it back under the water. When she turned back to him, she noticed him putting a laptop down.

"Where did you get that?" she asked him.

"Let's just say there will be a _very_ angry patron at the coffee shop down the street," he muttered.

Even in the given situation, the corner of Marta's lips turned up in that little smile of hers. Yet, as soon as it came, it was gone.

Aaron saw that brief ghost of a smile, and it pained him to see her that way. He knew a part of her was missing, with Kennedy being gone, and he wanted things to go back to the way they were. He wanted Kennedy in his arms. He wanted the woman he loved to have a reason to _smile again_. Aaron wanted to say something to her, to do _anything_ to get Marta to smile for real, but what would he say? He wasn't always the best with words and emotions.

"Let me see your back," she told him.

Aaron lifted the dark blue t-shirt over his head. Marta, even in the given situation, couldn't help but admire how well-toned he was. His abs, the muscles in his arms…

She blinked a few times to try to regain her focus. Marta put her hand on his arm and walked around to get a look at his back, but when she saw it she took in a sharp breath.

Aaron was silent for a moment, before he asked, "Is it bad?"

Aaron's back was covered in markings. He had numerous bruises of different shapes and sizes, ranging from coined-sized to one in the middle of his back the size of her fist. She noticed a cut on his lower back, not as deep as hers, that was several inches long.

"Hand me your shirt," she told him, and he did as she asked. She looked at the bottom of the garment, and sure even there was a slice in it. How had she not noticed that earlier?

"Are you gonna have to put me down, doc?"

She looked him in the eyes, thinking of something he had said to her years ago in one of his many examinations as an Outcome agent. He gave her a smirk, knowing he triggered a memory, and she couldn't help but let out a little chuckle at his expression. She planted a small kiss on his lips before moving back behind him and dabbing his cut with the wet washcloth.

"These bruises might just have to heal on their own," she said.

"There are far worse things than bruises," he said simply.

Marta froze. Yes, he was right. But was he talking about injuries… or right now? Because yes, there were far worse things going on at the moment. Their daughter had been snatched up by the CIA agents who have been searching for them for the past fifteen years. They were ahead of them and had no idea where they could be taking her.

Marta's emotions crashed over top of her like a ton of bricks and soon she found herself crying once more. _Screw being tough_.

Aaron turned to look at her, and then cupped her face in his hands.

"Please. Don't cry anymore," he whispered. "I hate seeing you like this."

She let out a choked sob. "I know. It's just I l-love her so much and I don't know what they're d-doing to her-"

"I know, I know," her murmured, wrapping her in his arms and sinking to the floor. "I love her too, so much. But what did I tell you earlier? We'll get her back. I promise. I _swear_."

Marta laid her head on his bare chest and just let out her emotion. She cried and cried, but as she started to calm down she fell asleep in Aaron's arms. He held her there, listening to her slow breaths, and planted kisses on her face. When her face finally relaxed in sleep, he lifted her off the floor and onto the lone bed in their room.

Aaron crossed the room, to where the backpack Marta brought was sitting, and unzipped the largest pouch. He rummaged through it, finding money, weapons, some of Marta's equipment, food items, a few spare pieces of clothes for the two… and then he saw the last few things sitting at the bottom. A small brown teddy bear that had been Kennedy's since she was barely a few months old (he had made his way into the market and bought the handmade animal from a street vendor), her blanket that she had used since infancy, her favorite bright purple scarf, and photos. A photo that showed a one-year-old Kennedy with hair like his, eyes like his, a smile like her mother's, and that same brown bear in her little hand. Another photo that showed a five-year-old Kennedy holding a fish in her strong grasp, unafraid of the livid, wriggling creature. A third of Kennedy and her mother, leaning over books on a table. A fourth of himself giving the young Kennedy a ride on his back. A fifth that Kennedy had taken, showing him and Marta holding hands at their small kitchen table. And, lastly, a sixth that was of the three of them on Kennedy's most recent birthday, at an angle that showed one of them had outstretched their arm to get the shot.

Aaron held these photos in his hand, before putting them back where he found them. He dug around in the bag again, becoming more frantic as he couldn't find what he was looking for.

Aaron sat on the floor, devastated. The silver camcorder, the one that held many memories, was not in the bag… which meant that, like the boat they had called home, it was blown to pieces.

He held his head in his hands, and for the first time in a very long while, Aaron cried. He cried for the fact that all the have had for the past fifteen years went up in smoke in the course of a day. He cried for his lost daughter, the broken Marta, and himself.

And as he cried, Kennedy was being taken away on a private jet to Berlin… along with the camcorder Aaron thought no longer existed.

* * *

**So… thoughts? Like the chapter? Hate it? Let me know in a review! Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thanks to the awesome LadyAvi, MsGirlygirl19, caseyrn12, icewitch73, and AlexKnightXD for reviewing!**

**So, if you haven't noticed, I had to change the name of the story. It turns out one of the Bourne novels is actually **_**called**_** The Bourne Betrayal… I had **_**no**_** idea, didn't look it up or anything. And you know what the weird thing is? The Bourne Betrayal is the book that follows The Bourne Legacy. Pure coincidence… But anyways, I changed the title of this. I'll admit, I don't like it as much as Betrayal, but I know now that the name **_**was**_** a good idea… They had already chosen it for a book! ;)**

**So, without further ado, enjoy the next chapter of The Bourne Recreancy! **

* * *

The private jet touched down on the private Berlin airstrip, its bright lights illuminating the still dark skies. It came to a halt, and several yards away sat a small car that held Byer, along with Marc Turso, the heavier man with the unique mark above his lip, and Terrance Ward, one of Byer's associates.

The three agents that had driven through the streets of Manila descended the steps that now projected from the plane's door. One of them carried the still unconscious Kennedy Cross.

Byer, Turso, and Ward got out of their car to meet the trio. The agent handed Kennedy forward, and Byer took the girl in his arms. He looked down at her, and he could immediately see the resemblance with Aaron Cross.

"No one followed us for the entire rest of the mission," one of the agents said, speaking directly to Byer. "It leads us to believe that two were killed by the fall over the bridge."

Byer shared a look with Turso. They both knew what Cross was capable of, and they still couldn't be sure that he and Shearing were dead. There was no footage of the fall, and if they did not have solid proof they could not make any assumptions.

Despite his beliefs, Byer gave the agents a nod, and gestured to an SUV that was parked not far from where they stood.

"That car belongs to you three," he told the agents. "We need you at the next set location. Oh, and give us a few minutes head start."

The three agents exchanged glances, and Byer could tell they were confused by the sudden addition to their plan.

"New protocol, gentlemen," Byer said with a tight-lipped smile. The three nodded, no longer making eye contact with him. They knew better than to ask questions, whether it be from him or any of their other superiors. It was in their job description.

The agent that had done all the driving in Manila reached into his jacket and pulled out an object.

"We took this from the ship before we planted the bomb," he muttered. "If you want to prove that she's that guy's kid, it's all right here."

The whole boat ordeal perplexed Byer. The goal was to blow up any of the supplies in that small vessel so Cross and Shearing had nothing to work with. Yet, after the shootout that resulted from the agents taking the girl, they realized Aaron still had access to a weapon.

Byer took the object, and found that it was a video camera: a silver, handheld device.

Before he could ask for details about what videos the camera contained, the agents shuffled off to the SUV. He let the question die, knowing that he'd be able to watch it and find out all the information himself. Byer went back to the car, Turso and Ward following behind. Ward opened the door for him, and he placed Kennedy in the back seat, pulling the seat belt over her and buckling her in. She looked… normal. One would suspect that she was sleeping.

Ward shut the door as Byer made his way to the driver's seat. Turso joined him in the front, and Ward walked around the car and sat down in the back.

"So, can you give us the name of this girl or anything, Ric?" Ward asked Byer.

Byer tossed him the camera.

"Why don't you find that out for us?" he asked, turning back to the wheel and sticking the key in the ignition.

Byer had no leads on what this girl's first name was. Security camera footage could only give so much detail.

Ward flipped open the camera and powered it on, looking down at the small viewing screen as it lit up.

Turso reached forward and opened the glove box. He took out a small white cube with a button on it.

"How much of a delay does this have?" Turso asked Byer.

"Ten seconds."

Turso let out a gruff laugh, pushing the button down with his thumb. "Then we better get out of here."

Byer sped off the tarmac and towards the main road, hearing Ward beginning to play back videos on the camera.

"Let's see what we can find out about you, Miss Cross," he murmured, looking to the unconscious girl next to him.

Byer drove farther and farther away, until the plane that had landed only a short time ago was far behind them. He turned on his high beams and prepared for the drive he had ahead of him.

Ten seconds later, in the rearview mirror, he saw the SUV explode.

**-oOo-**

Marta heard the gunfire echoing in the air, and she continued to run. Her arms pumping, her breath coming in short huffs, she traveled as fast as her aging legs could carry her. She had lost sight of Aaron, and this troubled her, but he had told her to keep running. As she heard gunshots once more, that seemed like a good idea. She was just hoping that he'd find her… _soon_.

Marta turned the corner around a brick building, but suddenly her head began to pound. She became short of breath incredibly fast, and her vision blurred. Before she could brace herself against something, her legs gave out and she fell to the ground. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to try and get past the dizzy spell.

Yet, when she opened her eyes, she was in a completely different location: under a desk. A desk that was located in her lab at Sterisyn-Morlanta. The gunshots now silenced, and from her hiding place she could see someone slowly pacing through the room.

Marta's heart still thrummed violently in her chest. She looked around, trying to find _any _place she could move to in order to avoid getting shot. As her eyes scanned the room, her gaze fell upon a body…

Aaron's body… with a bullet hole in his forehead.

Bile rose in her throat, and tears stung in her eyes. How could this happen? _He _was the strong one. Aaron was the one that was supposed to always have the upper hand.

_He was the real warrior, not me_, she thought in vain.

The person patrolling the room rounded the corner of the desk, and Marta tried to sink into the shadows to keep herself out of view. Alas, it was to no avail. There was nowhere to run to, and the shooter had found her.

The person with the gun crouched down to see her, and Marta watched with fear as it was not Dr. Donald Foite who had gone on the rampage that killed Aaron and the others. Dr. Foite was not the one with the weapon.

It was Kennedy that pointed the gun at her head.

Breathing heavily, Marta sprung awake to find herself in the small room she and Aaron had taken residence in for the night. Her forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and she tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand.

Aaron heard her distress, and turned away from the laptop to move towards her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, crouching beside the bed and grabbing her hand. "A nightmare?"

She nodded, taking in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm herself. "It was… it was the lab shooting. The gunman wasn't Foite, but…"

Marta trailed off, and locked eyes with Aaron. She placed her fingers on his forehead, and to him it seemed like she let out a sigh of relief before wrapping her arms around him.

When she woke up, he was going to tell her a plan he had devised thanks to Google Earth, but that could wait. She needed comfort now. She needed _him_.

Aaron never did ask what the dream was about.

**-oOo-**

The lights were bright in the detainment room. Mandy, Ingram, and several other agents sat behind the viewing glass, watching Byer, Turso, and Ward. The three stood in the middle of the room, surrounding Kennedy. Her wrists and ankles were restrained with metal shackles in the chair in which she sat. She still remained unconscious, her head and shoulders slumped forward.

Byer removed the syringe that was inside his jacket. It contained the serum that would reverse the effects of the original that kept Kennedy as still as she was now.

"The effects are instantaneous," Byer said as a warning.

Ward moved closer to Kennedy, ready to grab her if she began to flail. Turso, on the other hand, moved to take a seat. Many years had gone by, and he was a much older man than he was at the beginning of the Cross ordeal. He sat down in a chair that was propped up against the white walls. Turso had gotten to the point where it was difficult to stand for a prolonged period of time.

Slowly but steadily, Byer extended the needle and inserted it into her upper arm. With a gasp, Kennedy was suddenly awake and livid. She breathed heavily, dazed by the blinding light that now filled her eyes.

Kennedy blinked a couple of times in an attempt to regain her senses. She had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was being injected by those goons who came after her and-

The boat exploding. Her mother inside. Dad telling her to run. It all hit her like a ton of bricks. But where was her father now? And where was _she_?

"Nice of you to join us," Byer said to her, and his voice was one she did not recognize.

Kennedy tried to shift in the direction of the man's voice, but something was attached to her wrists. She looked down and saw... metal shackles?

She started to push up against her restraints, but then came to realize they were around her ankles, too.

"Struggling is pointless," the man told her, and she looked up to see he was now standing in front of her.

"Who are you?" Kennedy questioned. "Where am I, and why am I stuck in this chair?"

"We'll answer your questions if you answer some of ours," he said simply.

She looked at the man standing the next to him and the one in the chair across the room, and they both remained silent.

"You seem to be the only one who's talking," Kennedy mumbled under her breath.

The man must have heard her because he let out a chuckle.

"Oh, I can just tell this is going to be _so_ much fun," he muttered.

Kennedy said nothing, merely staring him down. He paced to her side before speaking again.

"Ok, fine. My name is Eric Byer," he said to her. "Name sound familiar?"

She shook her head. "I've never heard of you."

He chuckled again. "Peculiar."

"How is that peculiar?" she asked, becoming more confused by the second. Kennedy looked around, still trying to get the gist of where she was. The walls were made of white bricks, which contributed to the blinding light. Was she in a laboratory of some sort? A cell somewhere?

He shook his head, and Kennedy knew he was hiding something... But what?

"I introduced myself, now you should give me _your_ name," Byer said, crouching down so he was at her eye level.

She didn't trust this man. What her father tell her to do at a time like this? What would HE do?

"Katie. My name is Katie," she said, giving him the first name that came into her head.

Byer obviously didn't like that answer. His eyes narrowed, and he stood back up.

The old man in the chair let out a gruff laugh, and everyone's eyes fell on him.

"How well has she been trained?" he muttered.

Things clicked for Kennedy in that moment. She trained her combat skills with her father, and...

_Mommy and I have had bad things happen to us in the past. We've dealt with evil people._

_What kind of evil people?_

Everyone thing was clear to Kennedy. These were those evil people her father had told her about. Byer was the villain.

Kennedy started to struggle again, but more furiously this time.

"Get me out of these things. I want to leave," she muttered.

Byer merely laughed at her. "You want to leave? Where are you going to go, Kennedy?"

Her gaze shot up and met his, to which he raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I didn't believe that Katie bullshit for a second," he spat. "I know a lot more about you than you think, so I suggest you don't lie to me. How does that sound?"

Kennedy glared at him. Was he bluffing just to get her to talk?

"What were you doing in the market place in Manila?" he asked her.

"Shopping," she said simply, as if it wasn't obvious already.

"Shopping for whom?"

"Myself."

Byer turned to the man next to him, who walked over to a table and picked up a folder. He handed it over to Byer, and he proceeded to pull out a photo.

He held up the photo in front of her, and it was a picture of her father. She tried to keep her face neutral, even though she missed him desperately. She wanted him to just run into the room, break her out of this chair, and they'd go off together. They would make a living somewhere, and Kennedy would study science, do experiments or anything to keep her mother's memory alive-

"Do you know this man?" Byer questioned, interrupting her thoughts.

She merely looked at the photo for a few seconds before shaking her head and saying, "No, I don't."

The other man brought over a laptop, and he opened it in his arms. On screen was what seemed to be footage from a not so high quality security camera.

"Look closely in the middle of the screen," Byer instructed. "And watch."

Kennedy focused in on the middle, and what she saw was... _her_.

She grew nervous as she watched and saw herself walking through the crowds in the market. Kennedy looked on as her father approached her from behind and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to get her attention. She watched her conversation, and then she and her father meandered off screen.

"Recognize him now?" Byer questioned.

"Well, yes, but I don't _know_ him. I think... he was just a street vendor. Told me about his product and pulled me along... to get me to buy it," Kennedy said falsely.

Byer grew angry. "You don't realize who you're dealing with, do you? We know you're lying through your teeth. We have proof."

Kennedy let out a bitter laugh. "What proof?"

Byer looked at the old man. "Give me the camera."

The man gave him a nod, pulling something out of his suit jacket. Byer moved over to get it from him, and then turned back to Kennedy.

"Recognize _this_?" he sneered, holding up the object for her to see. It was a silver digital camera... Her father's camera.

Kennedy knew she was in trouble.

* * *

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever – these past weeks have been so hectic! I'm just glad I could get this updated before the worst of Hurricane Sandy hit me.**

**So, if you guys are still out there, leave me a review and tell me what you think – and if you're dealing with Sandy, stay safe!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hi guys! I hope you all are still reading – I only got one review for the last chapter (thank you MsGirlygirl19). I do want to thank the people that signed up for story alert, however. It lets me know you guys are out there ;)**

**I've got a show coming up (Shakespeare, woot woot), so I'm updating before tech week rears its ugly head. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Previously:_

_Byer grew angry. "You don't realize who you're dealing with, do you? We know you're lying through your teeth. We have proof."_

_Kennedy let out a bitter laugh. "What proof?"_

_Byer looked at the old man. "Give me the camera."_

_The man gave him a nod, pulling something out of his suit jacket. Byer moved over to get it from him, and then turned back to Kennedy._

_"Recognize _this_?" he sneered, holding up the object for her to see. It was a silver digital camera... Her father's camera._

_Kennedy knew she was in trouble._

She knew it was her father's from the second Byer showed it to her - it was the same silver color and had the scratches she could see from where she sat. The question was, though... How did they get a hold of it? It was in the boat and was gone with her mother, unless her father had grabbed it. If he had... then where was _he_?

"Whose is that?" Kennedy asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Byer chuckled. "Don't pretend you don't know exactly who it belongs to. I can see it in your eyes."

She looked at the camera, and then at the two other men in the room. How could they just stand by and watch? What was going through their heads?

In truth, Ward and Turso were observing her, watching every move of her gaze, every emotion on her face. They watched the girl, the one that looked so much like Cross, and tried to figure out things about her that they couldn't from just a few clips on a video camera. They wanted to know what made her tick... and what would set her off.

"You aren't necessarily the best liar, Kennedy June Cross," Byer muttered.

She couldn't help it when he said her full name - her gaze snapped up to his face, and he raised his eyebrows.

"I told you we knew a lot about you," Byer said. "All thanks to this video camera that belonged to your strange misfit parents-"

"They aren't strange!" Kennedy yelled, unable to control herself. There seemed to be no secrets anymore... It seemed futile to try and hide her parent's identities.

"Oh, really? You think they aren't strange? Do you think it's normal to spend the fifteen years of your life on a damn boat? Does it seem normal that your father trained you in combat at the age of nine?" Byer shouted. "None of that is normal! You did not grow up like a normal child because they were sheltering you from a secret world you couldn't even _begin_ to fathom!"

"They didn't keep secrets from me," Kennedy whispered, but even she wasn't sure about that.

"Well, you must be incredibly naive if you believe that," he muttered. "Go on. Tell me about your parents' past."

"I know they've had their fair share of hardships," she told him, "and I know they've dealt with evil people... who I can only assume would be you."

Byer shook his head. "Evil people? You're misguided, Kennedy. We're not the evil ones. We work for the CIA of the United States, and I can assure you we are not an evil group. Your parents are traitors."

"I don't believe you," Kennedy spat.

"Well _believe it_," he muttered. "You father's real name isn't Aaron Cross. Did you know that? His name is Kenneth Kitsom - see the parallel between his name and yours? He was a solider in war, and entered a program which we like to call Outcome, where he became Aaron Cross. The physical strength and knowledge you know he has? Those were given to him by pills supplied by _us_. The pills altered his chromosomes. He worked for us, but when he went off the grid and against policy, he had to be taught right and wrong. So he went on assignment in Alaska.

"Let me just say that there were... internal issues, so the Outcome program had to be shut down. Your father and the other participants had to be terminated-"

"Terminated?" Kennedy questioned. "So you tried to _kill_ my father?"

"Your father knew what he signed up for when he joined the program," the older man said to her, and Kennedy looked at him, having almost forgotten he was there. "So did your mother, who was a scientist for us."

"She observed the participants, such as your father, and monitored their vitals and chromosomal enhancements," Byer added.

That explained why her mother liked to run blood tests on her father... But herself? Kennedy thought, _Why would my mother constantly be checking my blood, unless I-_

Realization swept over her. If her father's chromosomes were still altered, even though he no longer took pills (that she noticed)... Her mother had taught her about genetics. The mother and father both contributed chromosomes to their child. That meant there was the possibility that Kennedy _herself _could have altered chromosomes, too.

Of course, she wasn't going to let Byer know this.

He continued. "And since your mother was involved with the Outcome project, although a little bit less directly than your father, she needed to go as well-"

"You know, if you're trying to convince me you people are the good guys, you're not doing yourselves any good by mentioning that you've tried to kill off my parents," Kennedy muttered.

"If they would have cared about their country, they would have gone with what was necessary," Byer said with a glare. "But they didn't. The two ran off across the world in an attempt of self-preservation. Your mother used government medical property to viral your father off the medication that kept him thriving. They are two government assets that went off and disappeared without a trace."

"But they _are_ people, too. And people have free will," Kennedy said.

"They're barely people anymore. You're mother's merely a wayward, unstable scientist and your father's a government experiment gone wrong," Byer spat.

Kennedy grew angered, and had the sudden urge to punch Byer in the jaw. "Don't insult my parents!"

Byer raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face, which jolted her head to the side. She took a deep breath before looking back at him. Her face _did_ sting, but Byer wasn't nearly as strong as her father. She had gotten some harder punches before.

"Who do you think you are?" Byer asked her quietly, but Kennedy could hear the anger in his voice. "Raising you voice at me… Do you have no respect?"

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to not hit girls?" Kennedy retorted.

Byer made a disgusted face and shook his head.

"No wonder my parents ran off," Kennedy muttered. "I would have gotten away too, if I had to work with you."

He shot Kennedy a look.

"Now, I've got another question for you, Mr. Byer," Kennedy sneered. "Where did you get that camera from?"

Byer merely laughed. "We kept it as evidence. Nothing else in that junk heap of a boat was worth keeping."

"You went on my boat?" she asked. "What were you doing-"

Kennedy answered the question herself… the massive explosion that she remembered so clearly.

They destroyed her boat… and _her mother_.

"You seem to be a smart girl, Kennedy. It looks as if you've already figured it out," Byer said.

Her throat felt tight as she tried to hold back tears she could feel stinging in her eyes. "You blew it up. You blew up the boat and my mother with it."

"You're misinformed, Kennedy," he muttered. "No one was on or near that boat when it exploded."

"But my father-" Kennedy whispered before she cut herself off.

Byer raised an eyebrow. "Your father _what_?"

_Kennedy, you need to listen to me, okay? I have been leading you in the direction of the boat. I need you to run there as quickly as you can. You have to meet your mother, and the two of you need to get out of there right away. There's no time to grab things, you just have to go._

That was what her father had told her. He said get to the boat and meet her mother there. But if Byer said no one was in the boat when it blew up, where had she gone? Did her dad know that she wasn't going to be there? Did he give her false information as part of some scheme, or was it really a plan backfiring? Maybe she was supposed to be there, but for some reason… she had just _left_.

Kennedy couldn't deny that she was relieved that her mother wasn't on that boat… or was she? Could she believe anything Byer said? All she had was hope. She hoped that her parents were alive, and together.

"Ah, so you thought that when we eradicated your boat, we killed your mother?" Byer asked. "No, that didn't kill her… but something else might have."

Kennedy's heart skipped a beat. "_What_?"

Byer crossed his arms. "Well, since we don't have official proof, we can't be sure, but-"

"What? _Say it_!" she uttered.

"Your parents went over the side of a bridge on a motorcycle," Byer told her, "and fell."

Kennedy was silent, trying to process what he just said.

Byer continued. "They were after you, in an unsafe manner I might add, and something led their motorcycle to tip over the edge. After that, they didn't chase again, and that leads us to assume that the tumble killed them both."

_Your parents went over the side of a bridge on a motorcycle… they didn't chase again, and that leads us to assume that the tumble killed them both…_

The words ricocheted around Kennedy's mind like bullets.

"It's a shame… for you. Their chase was for you. Their _fall_ was for you," Byer said. "I guess they couldn't protect you forever. I'll admit, fifteen years of hiding from us was pretty impressive."

Kennedy couldn't speak.

"Don't you see? You're the key. You're the missing puzzle piece to the plan that finally will rid the world of Outcome's effects," Byer murmured. "Whether you'll admit it or not, you're helping us."

"I will _never_ help you!" Kennedy cried. "You're the reason my parents are dead! If you would have left us alone, they wouldn't have needed to go after me! They wouldn't have gotten on that motorcycle and they wouldn't have _fallen_!"

"But are they _really_ dead? Are they, Miss Cross?" he said. "We'll just have to wait and find out, won't we?"

She glared at Byer.

"Which is why we're not done with you yet. You'll be staying with us for a while."

Kennedy struggled against her restraints.

"Over my dead body," she grumbled.

Byer chuckled. "Only time will tell."

Kennedy continued to squirm as he gestured to the viewing glass behind her, which she couldn't see.

"You and I are done for today," he told her. "Some friends of mine will be leading you to where you'll be staying."

"Friends of yours?" Kennedy mocked. "I don't like them already."

Byer gave her a tight-lipped smile. "If we're going to be spending so much time together, we're going to have to be nicer to each other."

Kennedy said nothing to him. Byer motioned towards the door and two suited guards came in, flanking her sides.

Byer handed over a key, which unlocked all of the metal shackles that held Kennedy down.

"I'm finished here," he told the two gentleman. "You can take her away."

As he began to walk away, Kennedy spoke once more.

"You won't get away with this!" she shouted.

He merely laughed at her, and didn't even look back.

"You sound like some clichéd superhero, Kennedy," he muttered.

She listened to his footsteps disappear, and watched as the old man and the other followed behind him. The two guards unlocked her cuffs and yanked her out of her seat, pinning her arms behind her.

Kennedy knew she could probably handle these two. If she tried, she could knock them down and get away. But how far would she get if she had no idea where she was or where she would go? If her parents were _truly_ dead, who would she run to? She had no one else.

The pair led her to a cell with white walls and a little grey cot. Kennedy had tried to stay strong when she was facing Byer, and she kept a neutral face when being transported by the guards. Yet now she was alone.

Expect for the security camera she saw when the big metal door closed on her. She would always be watched here.

So she sat on her makeshift bed and put her back to the camera. What would her mother say right now? What would her father tell her to do in a time like this?

_You're like your mother - you're a little warrior._

Kennedy tried to hold back the tears but it was futile. Once the first tear rolled down her cheek, more and more followed. She didn't feel like a warrior… she didn't feel strong.

She felt like a child, wanting her mother and father more than she ever had before.

* * *

**Poor Kennedy. Things are looking down for the Crosses… But you know Aaron. Always full of surprises…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thanks to MsGirlygirl19, ViceroyNelson, and fixitright2nd for reviewing! Hope you guys enjoy the next chapter :)**

* * *

_Previously:_

_Kennedy had tried to stay strong when she was facing Byer, and she kept a neutral face when being transported by the guards. Yet now she was alone._

_Expect for the security camera she saw when the big metal door closed on her. She would always be watched here._

_So she sat on her makeshift bed and put her back to the camera. What would her mother say right now? What would her father tell her to do in a time like this?_

You're like your mother - you're a little warrior.

_Kennedy tried to hold back the tears but it was futile. Once the first tear rolled down her cheek, more and more followed. She didn't feel like a warrior, she didn't feel strong._

_She felt like a child, wanting her mother and father more than she ever had before._

The sun was just beginning to rise over the streets of Manila as the city came to life. People began to make their way out into the open, and vendors were beginning to set up shop. Many of the citizens hadn't yet woken up for the day...

But Aaron and Marta had been awake for quite some time. They had packed their things into their backpack and checked out of their dingy hotel room. Aaron had devised a plan to find Kennedy's location, and there was no time to waste. Her safety depended on it.

The door to their lodging led out into an alley that was right next to one of the main streets. Aaron and Marta scanned the area, looking for anyone who looked out of the ordinary. They couldn't be too careful - CIA agents could be anywhere and after them. It seemed like a move Byer would pull.

The coast seemed clear, but then they saw the large group of police speaking with a street vendor. One of the officers was holding a piece of paper, and Aaron could only assume that it held pictures of him and Marta.

It sent back memories of when the pair was first in Manila, and they were trying to leave their boarding house, much like they were doing now. The police swarmed the building, Marta screamed a warning to Aaron, and the two escaped from the average cops... Only to have been chased by the Larx-3 a short time later.

But now, Aaron grabbed Marta's hand and pulled her away in the opposite direction. He didn't even need to say anything to her - she put her head down, like him, and tried to blend. Marta was incredibly smart and knew what she was doing.

Aaron squeezed her hand as they kept moving, but then the pair heard a shout. Whistles began to blow, and the attention of the civilians was drawn to the two of them. A middle-aged man pointed to Marta and began yelling in Filipino, trying to be spotted by the police. Aaron could only assume that he and Marta had a pretty price on their heads, because several people were now pointing them out.

"Time to go," Aaron muttered, and he and Marta began to run. He led her through the masses of people, but she kept up with his speed.

The cries of the policemen rang out in the air, and Aaron glanced over his shoulder to see three of them following close behind. He looked around and noticed a produce stand to the right. Thinking quickly, he hit a crate full of fresh fruit that was towards the bottom of a pile. The crate fell and brought the others with it, spilling fruit into the street. It became a free-for-all as numerous civilians rushed over to try and steal some of the goods.

The now angry vendor was too focused on all the people trying to take fruit to notice Aaron and Marta, and the sudden clump of people blocked the path of the police.

"Nice thinking," Marta said to Aaron as they got a larger and larger lead from the cops.

He looked back at her and gave that cocky smile of his, but in an instant his attention was back on the most important thing at the moment: _outrunning the police_.

-oOo-

"For the love of _god_!" Byer muttered, watching the screens in the Berlin control room. He had seen the Manila police force begin their pursuit of Cross and Shearing, and now he watched as the police got stuck behind a mob Cross caused by knocking over a god damned crate of _fruit_.

"Did you actually think they were dead?" Mandy questioned.

Byer let out a bitter laugh. "Of course not, because that would make things easy, and you know very well that this is _never_ easy. I'm just amazed at the appeal of _fruit_!"

He heard the door to the room open, and in came a guard escorting Kennedy. She looked worn out as she took in the numerous monitors and technology in the room.

"Well, look at this, Kennedy," Byer sneered. "Some people seemed to have survived a certain fall after all."

The relief was obvious in her eyes as her eyes darted to the main screen to see the street debacle unfolding in the city. A zoomed in view of Cross and Shearing gave her and the rest of the people in the room a full look at their every move… Not to mention the police, who had now passed the mob and were after the two once again.

"But now you can watch us kill them," Byer smirked, turning to look at the survivors' daughter.

-oOo-

It didn't take nearly as long for the cops to get around the roadblock as Aaron hoped it would. He scanned the area, looking for a speedy getaway. Aaron first took notice of an alley, which was adjacent to many rundown buildings that obviously housed people, but not in the greatest of conditions. He pulled Marta into the alley, off the street, and the pair sprinted.

A large dumpster and old shipping crates sat at a pile near the corner of the closest building. They were directly underneath a set of windows that were without glass window panes, leaving no protection from the outside.

"Climb up," Aaron told Marta, and he helped her get herself up onto the dumpster's lid. He jumped up and joined her, only to support her by grabbing her hips as she reached up towards one of the open windows. Aaron lifted her until it was fairly easy to climb into the building. Once she safely made it inside, she reached out her hand and he scaled the bricks to move through the window and join her.

The two heard the footsteps and chatter of the police as they neared their location. The group of cops went down the alleyway, and Marta could hear the static of their walkie-talkies. They were literally standing _right underneath of them_. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hand to try and muffle her loud breathing.

Aaron grabbed her hand and they sat as still as humanly possible. Marta listened as one of the officers said something to the group before they all ran off, deeper into the alley that stretched farther than Aaron and Marta didn't want to venture into.

When he was sure that they were gone, Aaron glanced out the window before quickly jumping back down onto the dumpster. Marta swung her legs out and followed behind him, Aaron catching her as she came down.

"Where do we go now?" Marta asked. "Back into the city?"

"We'll have to if we want to get _out_ of it," he told her.

"And that's our plan?" she questioned. "Where exactly are we headed after?"

Aaron heard someone approaching from inside of the alley.

"I'll tell you when we have time."

One lone cop came back from the direction in which the group left. His eyes widened when he saw the two, and his hands immediately moved to grab his walkie-talkie.

"_Aaron Cross at Marta-_" was all he had time to say before Aaron took him down. He knocked him unconscious and stole the device.

"_Aaron Cross at Marta Shearing ay gumagalaw pabalik sa bangka_," Aaron said, the Filipino rolling right off his tongue. Marta processed and translated what he had said in her mind as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the streets. After giving it some thought, she realized he had set the officers up with a false trail.

_Aaron Cross and Marta Shearing are moving back to the boat._

-oOo-

Byer scowled as he watched the camera footage and listened to what sounded like frantic conversation between the Manila officers.

"They lost Cross and Shearing," Ingram said.

"Yeah, I got that," Byer spat.

Kennedy still stood behind Byer. The corner of her mouth turned up into a small smile, much like the one her mother displayed from time to time.

Suddenly, the radio feed from the police's walkie-talkies buzzed before a message came through.

The cop said "_Aaron Cross at Marta-_" before the words cut out.

"Someone's found them," Byer muttered.

He didn't have a chance to say anything else before more words were heard.

"_Aaron Cross at Marta Shearing ay gumagalaw pabalik sa bangka_," said a voice, but it was different than the previous. Kennedy recognized it though. The slight accent in and familiar tone made her believe it sounded like her father... but how would that be possible? How could he get ahold of the walkie-talkie?

"Who was _that_?" Byer questioned.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man with the glasses staring at her.

"Ingram?" Byer asked, turning to look at him and expecting an answer.

"Kennedy knows," he said simply.

_Jerk_, Kennedy thought as Byer turned his gaze on her. He raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing.

Byer laughed and shook his head. "It's got to be Cross. But how in the hell did he get one of the walkie-talkies?"

Kennedy glanced up at the monitors and there, at the very corner of one of the screens, she could have sworn she saw her parents briefly move past... But, of course, she said nothing.

"Did you understand what he said?" Byer asked Kennedy.

She smirked. "_Oo. Nagsasalita ko Pilipino_."

She had that had understood because, yes, she spoke Filipino. Yet Byer _didn't_ understand her, and it was obvious that he was frustrated... but that was Kennedy's goal.

"She said she speaks Filipino," Ingram told Byer. "And Cross is trying to give him and Shearing a head start. He said they're going back to the boats."

"And they're going to get out of the city because they tricked the officers," Byer muttered. "Dammit. Someone get on the phone with the Manila police force and tell them they're being led on a wild goose chase!"

Kennedy bit her lip to try and keep a laugh from escaping. It assumed her that Byer was so confident that they were going to take her parents out, yet now they've tricked them and were most likely going to escape. She had always admired her mother and father, but now she was just in awe.

Byer must have seen her happy expression out of the corner of his eye because he turned around, glaring.

"Take her out of here," he said to the guard.

The burly guy who had a grip on her arm this entire time yanked her towards the door and led her out. She and the guard made their way down the empty halls, and Kennedy knew she was just headed back to her containment room. Yet she couldn't wipe that small, sly smile off her face. Her parents had escaped capture... and maybe that meant that she'd see them again.

-oOo-

Aaron and Marta drove off in a small white car that Aaron had taken from a lot. Marta couldn't help but feel bad that they had taken someone else's vehicle, but her desire to rescue her daughter clouded her judgment. She didn't have any idea what kind of condition Kennedy was in now, and that terrified her to no end. Marta just wanted her back, safe and in her arms.

Aaron sped away from the city until the buildings were well behind them. He couldn't help but constantly check his rear-view mirror in the thoughts that someone would be pursuing them, but he figured that thanks to their head start that wouldn't happen... for the time being.

"Would you care to fill me in on your plan now?" Marta asked him with a slight smirk.

"Well, the CIA had a slight hole in their scheme," Aaron told her. "It's called Google Earth. Yes, they do have some influence over those satellite images, but generally public buildings and areas are left untouched. I scanned the perimeter of Manila, stretching many miles out, and I picked up what looked to be a small rest stop that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere."

Aaron checked back in his rear view mirror once more. _Nothing._

"How much do you want to bet that those agents went to or around that little stop?" he said. "We'll start there, see what we can figure out."

"And then we'll be one step closer to Kennedy," Marta breathed.

Aaron gave her a reassuring smile. "That's the goal."

* * *

**What did you guys think? Wanna leave a review? I'd love it if you did :)  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**My lovely reviewers icewitch73, MsGirlygirl19, and imaninja41 are fabulous :)**

* * *

_Previously:_

_Aaron sped away from the city until the buildings were well behind them. He couldn't help but constantly check his rear-view mirror in the thoughts that someone would be pursuing them, but he figured that thanks to their head start that wouldn't happen... for the time being._

_"Would you care to fill me in on your plan now?" Marta asked him with a slight smirk._

_"Well, the CIA had a slight hole in their scheme," Aaron told her. "It's called Google Earth. Yes, they do have some influence over those satellite images, but generally public buildings and areas are left untouched. I scanned the perimeter of Manila, stretching many miles out, and I picked up what looked to be a small rest stop that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere."_

_Aaron checked back in his rear view mirror once more. _Nothing.

_"How much do you want to bet that those agents went to or around that little stop?" he said. "We'll start there, see what we can figure out."_

_"And then we'll be one step closer to Kennedy," Marta breathed._

_Aaron gave her a reassuring smile. "That's the goal."_

The afternoon sun sat in the sky when the pair rolled into the parking lot adjacent to the rest stop. It had taken them several hours to reach the place, and most of the drive had consisted of silence. Mainly Marta stared out her passenger window, trying to just regroup her thoughts. Aaron drove on, constantly checking his mirrors for any signs of trouble. There were no words exchanged between the two, but in moments of easy driving Aaron would reach across and take Marta's hand in his. He'd take his thumb and rub soothing circles on her palm.

When the two took a good look at the lot, a white van that they could only assume had been the agents' sat alone. The place was deserted, otherwise.

"So they _did_ stop here," Marta breathed, speaking to no one in particular.

Aaron did a quick scan of the area, and his eyes fell upon something as Marta began unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Don't get out just yet," he cautioned her. "There's something I've got to do first."

She looked at him before he spoke again.

"I'm going to need the laptop, computer cables, some of the leftover gauze, and a safety pin," Aaron said.

Marta didn't seem to follow what he was doing, but she grabbed the things he asked for as he drove around to the other side of the building. After checking the surroundings one last time, Aaron climbed out of the car. Marta followed behind him with the backpack, unsure of what his plan was.

The humid air hit her face the second she stuck her head out the door, making her want to stay in the air-conditioned car. Yet her reasoning triumphed over desire, and she followed behind Aaron.

He looked at the building for a moment, taking in all its features. There was a wide archway that stretched over the doorway that led to the bathrooms, and next to those doors was a bench. Without a moment's hesitation, Aaron jumped onto the bench and grabbed a hold of the archway, hoisting himself up into the air until he was perched on the archway. From there he gave himself another boost and made it onto the roof.

"Be careful!" Marta called to him.

He cracked a smile, looking down at her. "You're really worried about me hurting myself?"

"I always worry," she murmured, smirking at him.

He chuckled before saying, "Get on that bench and hand me everything."

She nodded and perched herself on top. He leaned over the edge and reached for the goods, placing them all next to him on the rooftop. Once Marta had handed over everything, he swept them up into his arms and began to walk across the roof to the other side of the building.

"Where are you going?" Marta hissed.

"I need you to stay on this side of the building until I say so," Aaron called out to her.

He made his way to the other side of the roof, approaching the security camera he had seen the second they pulled into the lot. It stood out like a beacon of sorts, and he knew that it had to be taken care of. The car he had taken _had_ tinted windows, but it was highly unlikely that any other people would show up here but Marta and himself. If the camera was here and this was a designated stop of the agents, it would make sense that the area was being monitored by Byer and the CIA… which meant that they would know Aaron and Marta had been here. So Aaron needed to get the information he came for and get the two of them out of there… _fast_.

Aaron extended the cables, plugging them into the laptop. He took the roll of gauze and tightly wound it around the camera, over the lens, until there was a thick enough layer that no footage could be seen.

"You're free to move now," he called down to Marta, and he watched her start to walk around the little building.

After tampering with the camera further, he attached several of it cords and wires to his laptop. All he needed to do now was decrypt the coding, and he would have access to all of the previous security footage.

As Aaron tapped away on the keyboard, Marta made her way towards the white van. She grabbed the little digital camera out from her backpack and viewed the photos she had taken earlier, comparing them. The sides of the van were the same, and upon checking, she confirmed the license plate was identical.

Marta paced around to the passenger side of the vehicle, and upon further inspection she found something terrible. In utter shock and disgust, she gasped loudly, grabbing the attention of Aaron.

He was right at the edge of the roof when he yelled out, "What's wrong?"

Marta stared on at the dead agent that still remained in the white van. His head and neck were a greenish-blue, and the bright red of his bloody wounds starkly contrasted. She remembered him sticking his head out the window in an attempt to shoot Aaron, but he fired back before the agent even had a chance.

A smell of rotten meat suddenly hit Marta, and she covered her nose and mouth to try and keep herself from gagging.

"They left the body," Marta cried out, backing away from the horrid sight and smell.

She hated that the man had been killed from gun violence, and by Aaron's hand, no less. It brought back thoughts of Dr. Foite and the lab shooting, and before she knew it the sounds of gunshots sounded in her ears. She knew she was hearing things, but it seemed all real to her. There were times where the memories gripped her, leaving her breathless and spreading a chill over her entire being. The memories consumed her, _invaded_ her, and she went back to being the terrified scientist hiding under a desk, watching her colleagues be slaughtered. It was times like these when she felt so… _helpless_.

Aaron placed his hand on her shoulder, dragging Marta out of her reverie. She turned to face him, and he had the computer and all of the cables packed up and ready to go. He took his hand off of her shoulder and gently laid it on her cheek. Marta closed her eyes and grabbed onto his hand like a lifeline.

"You're safe with me, dear," he whispered. He knew the look in her eyes when she thought about the shooting. Marta seemed distant, not really there mentally. Aaron hated to admit it, but it was something he feared. In those moments, he could do nothing but be there for her to ride it out… but usually, she did. Even if she didn't always admit it, she _was_ tough.

After a moment, he released Marta's cheek and moved to take the backpack from her.

"Let me take this for a while," he told her as he placed the laptop and cables carefully back inside, and then slung the straps over his shoulders. "We need to head somewhere small… somewhere secluded, so we can view this footage and try to swap vehicles."

Marta nodded, holding out her hand. Aaron smiled at her, grabbing a hold of it, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

The two of them went back into their car and drove away. By the time Byer was informed they were there, they were long gone.

**-oOo-**

Kennedy sat alone, on her cot, staring up at the ceiling. She imagined her parents sweeping in, taking out Byer and getting her out of there. She pictured the three of them running off somewhere, a place where they could have a cozy house and watch the sunset and be away from trouble. And, as silly as that sounded, she held on to that dream.

The dream gave her hope… and, at the time, that was all she had to hold on to.

**-oOo-**

The woman with the long blonde hair held onto her lover, relishing the feel of his skin against hers and the softness of his hair as she ran her fingers through it. His hands ran up and down her sides, sparking chills in her body. He pulled her in and held her tight to his chest, enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms.

"When will you be back?" she asked him, breathlessly, almost silently.

He sighed, burying his nose into her hair. He liked the color on her.

"I don't know," he whispered. "A few weeks, maybe?"

He began to press feather-light kisses to her neck, and she was almost lost in the sensation. She had known this man for years, and yet everytime he touched her was like the first time. Nothing changed there.

But everything else did.

"Weeks? That's a long time," she whispered.

The woman wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, trying to eliminate as much space as she could between them.

"It won't be long, I promise," he murmured.

He placed his forehead against hers, and they remained like this for a while. They said nothing, but they did not need to.

She sighed. "Promise me you'll stay safe?"

"I'm always safe. I'm always careful," he told her, and she believed him. He was.

"I love you," she said.

"Say that again," her lover begs, a low, quiet rumble.

"I love you," she whispers, and the man plants a searing kiss to her lips. She puts all her emotion into the gesture, tongue against tongue. She doesn't need to say "_I love you_" a third time. _This_ says it for her.

He finally breaks apart from the woman's lips, and he grabs his things. The man places a lingering kiss on her forehead before he walks out the door of their Berlin apartment, leaving the woman alone in the living room. She hadn't been separated from him for years, and now he was gone… just like that.

She wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself. There was an emptiness in her chest that she hadn't felt for a long time.

And she hated it.

**-oOo-**

Time stretched into the late afternoon for Aaron and Marta as they came across a small motel attached to a diner-like restaurant. Aaron could only assume that it was geared towards tourists, seeing as it had writing on the windows in both Filipino and English, advertising for coffee and other various goods.

He and Marta pulled into the lot, and Aaron parked right against the curb.

"Is it okay for us to stop here?" Marta asked him.

"If we don't stay for too long," he told her. "Why don't you go get us some coffees, and I'll start taking a look at the footage on the laptop."

"I could use a coffee," she sighed, grabbing a few bills out of the backpack. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before opening the car door and quickly heading into the shop. Aaron watched to make sure she got safely in and scanned the area for any trouble before he reached into the backpack and grabbed the computer. He opened the lid and the page was right where he wanted it.

Aaron had no choice to start at the beginning of the recorded footage, so he watched through, but was able to fast forward. Usually, there was nothing going on that the camera picked up, but every time motion showed up, he switched it back to real speed. Every time, it was what one would expect to see from that type of camera - a car pulling in, people getting out of the car to use the facilities, and then going back to their vehicles to drive away.

It was the same type of thing every time. He continued to look on at the laptop, and Aaron saw Marta walk back out of the shop with coffees in each hand. She scanned the area before quickly moving back to the car. Aaron reached across to the passenger side to open the door for her, and she climbed inside to hand him his coffee.

"I forgot to ask you what kind of coffee you liked, so I got you this," she said as she handed it off. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure it's fine, I'm not picky," he told her. Aaron took a sip of it as she shut her door, and he relished in the rich flavor of the drink. He couldn't remember the last time he had a coffee.

Aaron sat his coffee down in the cup holder, and he smelled a slight aroma of caramel from Marta's drink. He smiled to himself, turning to look back at the laptop. Aaron continued to fast-forward through the video, but the next time he caught movement, it was different.

"Hmm..." he murmured as he slowed down the video to normal speed.

Marta leaned over to get a better look at the screen, and the pair watched as two dark vehicles pulled into the lot. They moved to adjacent parking spaces, and one man got out of the first car, only to enter the second. The second car then drove away, leaving the first behind.

"A getaway car?" Marta asked.

"My thoughts exactly," Aaron muttered.

Aaron began to speed through the footage again, but it wasn't long before that all too familiar white van rolled into the rest stop's lot. The two agents climbed out of the back of the van, and Kennedy was in the arms of one.

"She still looks unconscious," Marta said. "What in the _hell_ did they inject her with?"

Aaron didn't know what to say, so he continued to watch the footage. The agent who had driven the vehicle remained inside longer that the others had. Aaron had a feeling that this agent still had some emotion left in him, and that he didn't want to leave his comrade behind, but he did.

It must be protocol, Aaron assumed.

After he joined the other agents in the car, they drove off in the opposite direction from which they came. All of the sudden, it clicked in Aaron's mind. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it sooner.

"I know where they went," Aaron told Marta. "We need to switch cars and go... Now."

Aaron opened his door and got out, looking around the area for cars. There were several of them, many more worn down than others, but an average-looking, silver CR-V caught his attention. He made his way over to the car, and after several tricks he had learned from his Outcome training, he had the car running like it was his own.

Marta had kept watch for him, and when Aaron had gotten the car going, she quickly climbed in, tossing the backpack onto the back seat.

Aaron joined her and they rolled out of the motel's parking lot, off to their next destination.

**-oOo-**

The late afternoon in the Philippines turned to night, and then to early morning. Seven hours behind, in Berlin, it was early night.

In the CIA's facility in the city, Kennedy restlessly slept. In the Philippines, Aaron drove. Marta watched the road.

In her Berlin apartment, the blonde woman laid in her own bed, unable to fall asleep because the man she loved was not there. Her eyes darted around, looking for the slightest bit of trouble, even though she was tucked away in her apartment. Living in a big city seemed like it would be a bad idea for a woman like her, but she discovered that being in an unexpected place gave her the advantage. But now she felt vulnerable.

Nicky knew she'd have to get used to this, because as much as she hated to admit it, there'd always be the possibility that Jason Bourne wouldn't come back.

* * *

**And enter Nicky Parsons! Did anyone think of her and Jason when the "blonde woman and her lover" were first introduced? Leave me a review and let me know ;)**

**If I don't update this before the rest of this year's holidays pass, have a wonderful holiday season with you friends and family! I'll see you all in the new year! :D **


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hello, here I am updating again! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'd like to give thanks to imaninja41, ForsetiPurge, MsGirlygirl19, and Arrowhead1996 for reviewing :)**

* * *

_Previously:_

_In the CIA's facility in the city, Kennedy restlessly slept. In the Philippines, Aaron drove. Marta watched the road._

_In her Berlin apartment, the blonde woman laid in her own bed, unable to fall asleep because the man she loved was not there. Her eyes darted around, looking for the slightest bit of trouble, even though she was tucked away in her apartment. Living in a big city seemed like it would be a bad idea for a woman like her, but she discovered that being in an unexpected place gave her the advantage. But now she felt vulnerable._

_Nicky knew she'd have to get used to this, because as much as she hated to admit it, there'd always be the possibility that Jason Bourne wouldn't come back._

Kennedy was suddenly yanked out of a dreamless sleep, hauled from her rickety bed by guards. They held her by the arms as they took her from her room and down the halls. She tried to wrestle out of their grasp, because as soon as she was woken she was up and alert despite her terrible attempt to sleep. Her father's training made her reflexes strong.

Kennedy thought back to just two days ago when her father woke her and scared the living _daylights_ out of her. It was a simpler time... She wanted her father back. She wanted to see him and her mother and hug them and have the chance to _really_ say she loved them. The simple goodbye before she went into the city? It wasn't good enough.

When Kennedy thought the guards wouldn't expect it, she lifted her foot off of the floor and kicked one of them in the back of the leg. She gave it enough power that he went sprawling to the floor, releasing his grasp on her arm. Kennedy delivered a second swift, hard kick to his stomach before the second agent grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. She kneed him in the genitals, which caused him to grunt in immense pain, and then punched him right in the jaw.

Kennedy moved to punch him again, but didn't have the chance before the other agent had gotten back up and dashed her to the floor. Her head hit the cold tile with enough force that slightly blurred her vision, and before she could fight back the agent kicked her roughly in the side. She cried out in pain as he then socked her in the face. He had a ring on his finger, and Kennedy could feel it slice her lip open the second it made contact.

The other agent punched her once, twice, three times in her left eye, which slammed her head back to hit the floor everytime, just like before. Kennedy felt physically degraded. She had taken punches from her father... But never anything like this. And she was stunned. So much that she didn't try to hit back.

She didn't try to resist when they yanked her off the floor and dragged her away to wherever they had been taking her in the first place.

The two agents moved her into a room much like the one she had first woken up in here, except instead of a chair in the middle of the room there was a metal table. They left her in there, shutting the door behind them.

She was alone.

Kennedy, with shaking fingers, raised her hand to her eye and lightly patted it. She winced as she discovered that it was painful and _very_ sensitive to the touch. Her upper lip had a slight sting, and she touched the spot, only to draw back her finger to see blood.

Kennedy shook her head, clearing up the last blurry spots in her vision. Ever since she was little, she had bounced back from injuries relatively quickly, but none of them had been this bad. Yet, it made her think... Byer had mentioned her father's chromosomal enhancements. With all that her mother had taught her about genetics, Kennedy only assumed that _she too_ had altered chromosomes. Could accelerated healing be a result of her different genetic makeup?

Kennedy heard the door to the room swing open, and she spun around to see Byer and a blonde woman walk in. She seemed to be in her upper-twenties to mid-thirties, younger than Kennedy's mother but not _that_ young. Byer took one look at Kennedy's face and he seemed... impressed, almost.

"Well, I told the guards to get you here by any means necessary," he muttered. "I guess they took that to heart."

He chuckled as Kennedy glared at him, saying nothing.

Byer turned to the blonde. "Oh, of course, I almost forgot. Kennedy, I'd like you to meet Dr. Taylor."

The woman gave Kennedy a small smile that looked genuine, but Kennedy was hesitant. She was with Byer and therefore she didn't trust her.

"Remember what I told you," Byer murmured in the doctor's ear, quietly enough that Kennedy wouldn't overhear. He had said to Dr. Taylor that Kennedy was a patient of theirs that suffered from a mental disorder. It would explain hostility, and Byer was expecting that because of what he needed Dr. Taylor to do.

"Dr. Taylor won't be here for long," Byer told Kennedy. "She just needs to take a sample of your blood and then she'll be on her way."

Kennedy tensed. Ever since she was young, Kennedy _hated_ having her blood drawn. It was an edgy subject between her and her mother especially, because she constantly drew Kennedy's blood to run tests and check her chromosomal make-up. And _that_ was what really worried Kennedy. She was afraid that Byer was getting wise, and maybe that he too believed that Kennedy inherited her father's altered chromosomes. One blood test could reveal that all... and she didn't want that to happen.

"She's not taking my blood," Kennedy muttered.

"Excuse me?" Byer questioned.

"She's not taking my blood," she repeated. "I... I hate having blood drawn."

Byer let out a bitter laugh. "The daughter of a scientist, and you hate having blood drawn? That seems funny to me."

He walked towards Kennedy, and she braced herself against the metal examination table.

"Follow my lead, Dr. Taylor," he said.

Byer attempted to pin down Kennedy's arms, facing upwards so the blonde doctor could easily stick a needle in her arm. The woman began to walk forward, but Kennedy, without so much as a second thought, freed her right arm without any difficulty and punched Byer in the cheek. He grabbed his face as he went down to the floor.

Angrily, Kennedy turned to Dr. Taylor and snatched the needle and vial right from her hand. She wanted to push the woman from the room and make a run for it... but she saw the fear in the woman's eyes. She was terrified... _of her_.

Kennedy was acting in self-defense, but then she realized... Maybe this was what Byer wanted. Maybe he wanted her to act out in fury, to prove her strength. And now Kennedy had achieved nothing except knock the man to the floor and terrify a woman to no end. She could still run, but the horror in the doctor's eyes kept her stuck in her spot, and made her feel like some sort of monster.

"I'm sorry," Kennedy whispered, almost inaudible, letting the needle and vial slip to the floor.

The clank of the equipment on the tile snapped her to her senses, and so she tried to dash out of the room, but came face to face with those same guards as before. They grabbed her by the arms and hoisted her into the air, taking her over to the examination table and putting her on top. The pair held her in place while Byer, who was once again on his feet, pushed a button. Metal clamps rose from the surface of the table, positioning themselves around her wrists, shoulders, waists, and ankles. They automatically adjusted themselves so they were tight, and Kennedy was in shock at the technology.

"Let me go!" Kennedy wailed as the doctor approached her once more with a straight face that held no emotion, and she couldn't tell if she had faked her fear or was putting on a brave face now. The woman did not go back for the vial on the floor, as Kennedy expected. Instead, the doctor reached into her lab coat and pulled out a syringe. Inside was a clear liquid.

Kennedy, becoming nervous, struggled even more against her restraints. She was expecting that they'd draw blood for research purposes. But now... _what_?

Dr. Taylor took hold of Kennedy's left arm, and she couldn't do anything about it. She watched the needle slowly, painfully make its way into her skin. Kennedy gritted her teeth and tried to suppress a scream. Now she _wanted_ to have her blood drawn, because she knew it would be almost painless in comparison to this.

Her muscles began to feel stiff, and soon she couldn't even _try_ to move under the shackles. Kennedy's eyes rapidly darted around the room, and she saw Byer standing over her.

"What did you do to me?" she tried to ask, but her lips felt stuck shut.

He was the last thing she saw before everything in the room became increasingly bright, blindingly so. The white walls of the room grew brighter and brighter until all she saw was their color.

And Kennedy lost all sense of where she was. She could do nothing but see - it was silent, and she felt weightless. It seemed like she wasn't even physically _there_ anymore.

Kennedy wanted to just _move_ somehow - whether it be the wiggle of toes or fingers, the simple flick of a wrist. She needed to feel like she was alive... Because it sure felt like she could be dying. Kennedy tried to scream, but no sound came from her mouth.

And then, all of a sudden, she was back in reality. A flash of light returned her to on top of the examination table. She was able to see herself again. With a turn of her head, there was a different scene in front of her. The security guards were bruised, lying unconscious on the ground. Dr. Taylor was nowhere to be seen. And there, on the tile floor, Byer was being beaten.

By her father. And her mother stood beside him.

Kennedy's breathing hitched.

"Mom? Dad?" she gasped.

But they didn't answer her. Their attention was drawn directly on Byer.

"Now I'm going to ask you again, where is she?" Aaron demanded, holding him by the shirt collar.

Byer, with a cut-up lip far worse than Kennedy's, muttered, "She's dead. Gone. I've told you that."

"No, I'm not!" Kennedy yelled. "Mom, Dad, I'm awake, I'm here!"

Yet they didn't hear her.

"I don't believe you!" Aaron muttered, delivering yet another punch to Byer's already badly marked face.

Kennedy saw the tears in her mother's eyes.

"I do," she whispered. "I think he's telling the truth."

Kennedy became livid, wanting out of those shackles. "He's not, mom! I'm right here, right next to you! Can't you hear me?" Kennedy wailed.

They didn't hear.

Aaron began to cry.

Byer fell limp in his arms, eyes shutting, breathing halting.

Marta grabbed onto Aaron's shoulder, telling him to stop hitting Byer, that he was already gone.

And Aaron let the body slide to the floor, yelling that Kennedy was gone, too, and that Byer deserved to die. He screamed until his throat became raw, yelling for his dead daughter and his broken wife and the broken him. They were all broken. Shattered into pieces that even _he_ couldn't pick up.

And Kennedy wanted to be free of those damned shackles. She wanted to know why her parents couldn't hear her... Maybe she really _was_ dead.

No. No. No no no no no. She couldn't be. She couldn't have gone down like that.

Kennedy merely pushed on the shackles, and they fell open, freeing her from the restraints. She jumped up from the table, feeling a little light-headed.

"Mom!" Kennedy yelled, but Marta did not answer. "Mom! _MOM_!"

Tears welled in her eyes, and she reached for her mother. Yet when her hand went through her mother instead of touching her skin, she came to grips with it.

Kennedy June was dead.

"No!" Kennedy moaned, the tears beginning to spill out of her eyes. She reached for her father, wanting nothing more than to grab his hand and hug him tight, but her hand slipped right through like a ghost. She _was_ a ghost.

And her parents, both beginning to cling to each other, decided they needed to leave, needed to get somewhere safe because standing around wouldn't do them any good. They thought that Kennedy would want them to go.

"I don't!" she screamed. "I just want you to see me!"

So Aaron and Marta fled the room, Kennedy following feebly behind them. But just as quickly as she began to run, that lightheadedness came back full force and knocked her to her knees. She couldn't move as her parents ran down the hall, farther and farther from her with each step.

"Mom! Dad! Come back, please! Please! _PLEASE_!" Kennedy screamed. She tried to crawl after them, but her vision began to swim and swing and shift. The world blurred until...

She opened her eyes.

Sweat made her hair cling to her forehead. Kennedy shot up to find that she was in the cot, back in her small holding room in the CIA facility. She raised a trembling hand to her cheek, and felt damp skin. Her hand moved to the wall, and she felt cold brick. Kennedy listened to the beat of her heart.

She wasn't dead, that's for sure.

And she breathed a collective sigh of relief.

But what the hell had just happened? Was that all a nightmare? A hallucination caused by whatever Dr. Taylor had injected her with?

Frantically, Kennedy looked down at her arm. Gauze was wrapped around where she had been given the mystery stuff. But on her other arm was a cotton ball wrapped up with tape to stay in place. This made her furious, because this has meant they had taken her blood after all.

So Kennedy assumed that what they had given her was some kind of sedative. A bizarre one that wasn't calming, but knocked her into some strange in-between state that caused her to hallucinate. Because that was the only logical explanation to what she has just gone through.

It gave her an ache in her chest, though, when she realized that her parents were never really there, trying to rescue her. Yet that ache let to her stomach tying in knots when she thought about what Byer was doing with her blood.

With tests, he would now be able to figure out that she was most likely enhanced. When he found that information, he'd use it against her.

She knew he most likely had some sort of plan, but Kennedy had no idea what... And that terrified her. Was he going to keep her, and use her for some purpose? Would… he kill her?

Before she could really dwell into her thoughts, the door buzzed, which meant someone was coming into her room. Kennedy watched wearily as the female guard came in, handing her a towel and change of clothing - fresh underwear, blue jeans, and a grey tank top, and a dull red hoodie. The woman informed Kennedy that she was here to escort her to the showers.

So Kennedy begrudgingly followed behind her, hating the woman already but knowing she needed a shower. And as she walked along, she noticed that a small slip of paper had been tucked into an article of the clothing.

Kennedy opened and read it to find it was a small, simple five word sentence... but those five words made her very, very afraid.

_Long live Kennedy June Cross._

* * *

**So, sorry if this chapter wasn't so great, but it is important. Now Byer knows that Kennedy is enhanced, and that can lead to… all sorts of things. But you'll have to wait and see what those things are ;) Please leave me a review, if you guys still stuck around! ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**I would like to thank my resilient reviewers MsGirlygirl19, Arrowhead1996, E. 97, imaninja41, and angelstory800 for putting up with me ;) Hope you enjoy the next chapter! **

* * *

_Previously:_

_Before she could really dwell into her thoughts, the door buzzed, which meant someone was coming into her room. Kennedy watched wearily as the female guard came in, handing her a towel and change of clothing - fresh underwear, blue jeans, a grey tank top, and a dull red hoodie. The woman informed Kennedy that she was here to escort her to the showers._

_So Kennedy begrudgingly followed behind her, hating the woman already but knowing she needed a shower. And as she walked along, she noticed that a small slip of paper had been tucked into an article of the clothing._

_Kennedy opened and read it to find it was a small, simple five word sentence... but those five words made her very, very afraid._

_Long live Kennedy June Cross._

Aaron had a plan, and it wouldn't be too difficult to complete, but if it was executed poorly… It would end badly for both him and Marta. He wouldn't let Marta get hurt. If anything happened to her, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

And he couldn't let Kennedy rot in a CIA facility, or wherever the hell where they were keeping her. So his plan _had_ to work.

Aaron laid down what was going to happen, and Marta listened intently, not missing a single detail. The two both had to be on their a-game if they had any hope of this going right. So when Aaron pulled over to the side of a small road, she climbed out of the passenger seat and left the vehicle. Her joints groaned in protest – all of this movement was starting to take its toll on her – as she made her way over to the driver's side. Aaron climbed into the backseat and sat down on the car floor… making sure his handgun was secure in his jacket.

Marta pulled back onto the road, constantly checking her mirrors to make sure no one was behind them. Meanwhile, Aaron placed a tan fedora and a pair of oversized women's sunglasses on the console between the driver and passenger seat. The owner of the car had left these inside when they took it, and now they would come to good use. When Marta had a spare second at a stoplight, she pulled her hair up under the hat and slipped on the sunglasses.

From the floor of the car, Aaron gave Marta directions. She knew where they were headed, but how to get there was a completely different story. Her heart began to pound when she turned on the secluded dirt road he had told her about.

"Just keep driving this way," he said to her. "We're almost there."

Marta nodded, not looking back at him. She drove along the tree-lined road until she approached a gated, barbed wire fence. She could see the runway and the few small planes of the private airport.

A small security post sat right by the entrance, and inside sat a Filipino security guard. He eyed their vehicle suspiciously as his partner approached the car.

"Stick to the plan," Aaron whispered.

Marta rolled down the window as the security guard came up to her.

He looked at her for a moment before finally saying, "Can I help you?"

"Oh, finally, someone who speaks English," Marta purred, trying to turn on as much charm as she could. "Yes, help. That would be wonderful."

The guard turned to glance at his partner in their post, before looking back at Marta.

"What is it that you need, miss?" he inquired.

She leaned out the window, closer to the man, and put on her best pout.

"I'm lost," she muttered. "I have no idea where I'm going."

"And what brought you down this road?" the guard asked.

"I was hoping I'd find someone who could help, _and_ that could speak English… and here you are!" Marta said with a beaming smile.

"Well miss, you could have gone just a little farther up the road, and there's a little shopping center that I'm sure that could help you…"

While Marta went on with a made up story about how she was a tourist and had just gone for a little drive that had ended up taking her _far_ away from her hotel, Aaron carefully reached his left hand up to get a grip on the door handle. He listened as the security guard started to get a little fed up with the "desperate" Marta.

"Miss, why don't you get out of the car? Maybe we can help you-"

This was Aaron's chance. Before the man could finish his sentence, Aaron swung the car door open with all of his might and knocked the guard to the ground. The other guard in the post started shouting, and Aaron jumped out of the car. He saw the man reach for his walkie-talkie, so before he could call for help, Aaron swiftly grabbed it from his hands. The guard tried to fight back, swinging a punch that Aaron dodged with ease. He delivered a kick to his stomach and quickly took the guard down as the other one stood up, recovering from the door hit. Aaron quickly got a hold of him, and soon he was unconscious just like his partner.

Aaron took one of the guns from the guards and handed it to Marta through her window.

"Nice job," he told her with a smile.

"I could say the same to you," Marta said breathlessly.

She rolled up her window as Aaron dragged one of the guards into their post, balancing him in the chair so it looked as if he was sitting there. He ran over and grabbed the other guarding, sitting him up against the wall of the post.

Aaron went back inside to check the control panel. Many buttons lined the board before him, and he scanned them all before he found the one labeled for the gate. He pressed it, and there was an electronic buzzing before the gate slowly started to open.

Marta reached into the backseat and pulled the backpack up front with her as Aaron made his way to the passenger side and climbed into the car.

"That buzzing didn't sound good," Marta said to him, gripping the steering wheel as he rolled down his window.

"It means everyone here probably knows someone's arrived," Aaron told her.

"And that means?" she asked.

Aaron gritted his teeth. "It means drive. Drive and _don't stop_."

Marta stomped on the gas and sped into the complex. Off in the distance, to her left, she saw the airport tower.

"We need to get there," Aaron said, pointing to the building.

Marta drove off, weaving around one of the small planes that sat on the runway. Unfortunately, when she emerged from behind the plane, two cars were waiting for them. Aaron immediately leaned out of his window and shot into the windshield of one of the vehicles.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Marta cried, swerving to the left as she tried to move around the cars and towards the building. Aaron continued to fire at the guards, taking down the two in the first car. The other three in the second fired shots at him, and thanks to Marta's somewhat erratic yet helpful driving, he missed getting shot. The other men were not moving, which left them at a slight disadvantage.

"Just keep driving!" Aaron shouted as he continued to fire. One bullet got dangerously close, and Marta gasped as she heard it whiz behind her head. The window on her side cracked as the bullet pierced the glass.

Aaron took down the last guard as Marta sped up to the entrance to the tower, and then pulled the backpack onto his shoulders.

"Go, go!" he shouted at her, and she flung open her door, taking the handgun with her. She ran around to grab Aaron's hand and they dashed into the building, making their way to the stairs.

"I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of the people here," he said to her. "Stick with me."

"Well, there's really nowhere else for me to run, so… Looks like you're my only option," she retorted jokingly.

In the midst of the chaos, Aaron chuckled.

The pair heard footsteps approach on the concrete stairs. A tall man appeared in front of them, and Aaron shot him down, but while his focus was away another person came up behind Marta. Quickly thinking, she fired two shots into his leg, which brought him down momentarily. Even though she didn't have the accuracy and skill that Aaron possessed, she had owned a gun when she lived back in Maryland, which gave her knowledge on at least how to fire one.

In the time that the guard was distracted by his leg wound, Aaron had a chance to finish him off, pulling Marta close to him as they made their way up the stairs. They were both breathing heavily when they made it to the door into the command post. Aaron kicked in the door, gun raised, only to find that no one was left.

Aaron rushed over to one of the many computers in the room while Marta stopped to take a rest in one of the chairs.

"We don't have much time," Aaron muttered. "I have a feeling the CIA goons have already been notified that we've been here."

"And what is it you're doing exactly?" Marta asked him, gesturing to the computer.

"Looking at the records of flights out of here from the past two days," he told her. "If we can find that out, then it can give us a better idea of where they've taken Kennedy."

Marta nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the windows that gave a view of the entire runway. She found herself constantly checking the door, making sure no one was trying to make their way back into the room.

"Well, this is convenient," Aaron said.

"What?" Marta asked, walking to him and the computer.

"Only one flight has departed from here in the last two days," he told her.

"And where did it go?" she questioned.

"Berlin. They flew into Berlin on the night of the same day they took her," he muttered. "_Jesus_. There's a CIA facility in Berlin. That's probably where they have her now."

Marta tried not to groan. Kennedy, in a CIA facility? It seemed like it'd be impossible to break her out of there without one of them getting hurt, or they'd do something to Kennedy to get them to surrender.

"Can you fly a plane?" Marta asked Aaron.

"Yes," he replied.

"Then we can take one of these planes and-" Marta began.

"We can't just take one of these," Aaron said. "They'd only assume we'd fly one of these planes, and they'll probably have eyes on all the private airstrips out there, _especially _theirs. If we tried to fly there, we'd be dead the second the plane touches down. We'll have to take a flight out there through a public airport."

"But don't you think they'd _expect_ us to do that?" Marta questioned.

"It'll be a hell of a lot safer to do so, though," he muttered. "You remember how I told you about the forty thousand dollars and the ghost passports in the lining of my old jacket?"

Marta was taken back to that night in the dingy room of that Manila boarding house, with an Aaron so sick from being viralled out that he was practically on death's doorstep. She remembered trying to keep him cool with a wet washcloth, but her sat up and refused. He then told her about the money in his leather jacket, along with the passports, that she could use to get away… by herself.

_You can make it. You're a warrior._

She refused. As if she could even think about leaving him. She knew, in that moment, that she had fallen for him, and they were in it together… for better or for worse.

"I remember," she whispered, the corner of her lips turning up for that small, subtle smile of hers.

Aaron chuckled. "Well, I modified those passports for if we ever needed to use them… and sure enough, the occasion's arrived. They're in the backpack. I doubt the CIA would think to look at them right away, being older."

He took the bag off his shoulders and unzipped the main pouch, pulling out two passports. Aaron checked one of them before handing it over to Marta.

She glanced at him before opening the little book. Inside she found a more recent photo that Aaron had took of her, which she vaguely remembered him taking for this purpose, with her square-framed glasses perched on her face. Next to the photo sat her new alias.

"Louise Atkins," she murmured.

"Louise," Aaron repeated. "It means warrior."

Marta couldn't help but laugh. "So no more James and June?"

Aaron smiled at her, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "More like Liam and Louise."

"Hmm, and does Liam have any meaning to it?" she inquired.

Aaron chuckled once more. "Determined guardian."

"The warrior and the guardian. It has a nice ring to it," Marta murmured.

Aaron grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "We better getting going," he told her. "This place could be swarming with agents any minute now. And besides, we need to buy some tickets."

"Back to Manila?" Marta asked.

"Back to Manila," Aaron said.

So the two, hand in hand, made their way out of the control tower and into one of the security's cars that was in far better shape than theirs. Thanks to the keys in one of the guard's pockets, Aaron started up the car and both he and Marta slipped on their sunglasses. Aaron hit the gas, and with that, they were off.

-oOo-

Byer had sent out some of his field agents to assess the damage at their Manila airstrip. At the same time, he had contacted the staff at their Berlin runway to inform them that an unauthorized plane could be flying into their airway, and that on it contained two enemies of the United States. Yet when he got back in touch with his agents, he said that none of the planes had been hijacked in Manila.

"All that's here are our men that were killed," one of the men had reported. "Anyone else who's been here is most likely far off by now.

And that was Byer's breaking point.

"So what are you proposing we do?" Ward asked Byer as he sat down with Turso, Ingram, Mandy, and Vendel.

"I've been holding off on Phase Two for a while now, but now I think it's time to initiate it," Byer muttered.

"And by Phase Two do you mean-" Ingram began.

"You know exactly what I mean," Byer interrupted him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mandy asked. "She's just a girl."

"Dita, at this point I really don't think we have any other options," he told her as they all exchanged looks.

Kennedy was about to become the spark that ignited a fire.

* * *

**Okay, did I give the action justice? Let me know in a review ;) Thanks for reading! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thank you MsGirlygirl19 for your constant reviews and support – it means a lot to me! Enjoy, everyone!**

* * *

_Previously:_

_"So what are you proposing we do?" Ward asked Byer as he sat down with Turso, Ingram, Mandy, and Vendel._

_"I've been holding off on Phase Two for a while now, but now I think it's time to initiate it," Byer muttered._

_"And by Phase Two do you mean-" Ingram began._

_"You know exactly what I mean," Byer interrupted him._

_"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mandy asked. "She's just a girl."_

_"Dita, at this point I really don't think we have any other options," he told her as they all exchanged looks._

_Kennedy was about to become the spark that ignited a fire._

Aaron and Marta made it through the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in the same fashion they always did, keeping their heads down and drawing the least amount of attention to themselves. The two went their way through security, presenting their boarding passes and IDs without a hitch. The "highly trained" security officials had no idea that they were letting two veterans of the United States' CIA most wanted list right through their gates. Of course, with the amount of sangfroid that Aaron and now Marta possessed, the gentlemen on the security team had no reason to doubt the two were just average people passing through. Suave as hell Aaron could always get his way.

Once Aaron and Marta got past the gates, he suggested that they split up. Marta went along with it, but this was not like the last time they split up in an airport. She was not afraid. So, when she gave Aaron a kiss on the cheek and walked off, she grabbed a coffee, paper, and sat at a table in front of a small little coffee stand. Marta took one sip of her coffee only to realize that it was the last thing she wanted, so she placed it down next to her and began to flip through the paper.

Every article in the paper was in Filipino, but that didn't bother Marta. With Aaron's ability to speak almost every language, he had taught her how to speak near fluent Filipino. He taught Kennedy how to speak as well, but that wasn't something she didn't want to dwell on. Each thought of Kennedy sent a terrible ache into her chest, like someone had stuck a knife in and twisted.

Marta read through the sentences, studying each the Filipino words. Learning a new language was almost a thrill to her, and she absorbed the words, taking them into her mind and digesting them. It was similar to her love of learning in the lab, with the data she collected and things she found through constant hours of work. Yet, thinking of the lab was almost as bad as thinking of Kennedy. It was almost as if she could hear the gunshots ringing in her ears again. She pictured Dr. Foite taking the gun to his chin and pulling the trigger.

It didn't help that when the bad memories of the shooting came rushing in, so did the memories of her terrible nightmare she had that one night back in Manila, where it was not Dr. Foite killing her colleagues… but her own daughter. The gun seemed so out of place in Kennedy's hand, unnatural really. Those grey-blue eyes she was accustomed to had lost that same glow. Kennedy didn't _look_ like Kennedy.

Marta found herself staring at the same page of the newspaper, and she set it down to take in a wavering breath. She needed to collect herself.

_I am a normal woman. I am a sane, happy person._

Her inner mantra didn't do a good job of convincing her, though. She feigned interest in her newspaper. When her flight number was called, Marta slowly wrapped up her newspaper and took a sip of her coffee. With the two items in her hand, she grabbed her small black carry-on suitcase she and Aaron had picked up earlier. There was a trash can near her, and she swiftly tossed the coffee she hated and the paper she no longer cared to decipher. Marta maneuvered through the crowded airport to her terminal.

She grabbed her boarding pass out from her jacket pocket to show the lady at the gate, and she was let through with a smile. Marta made her way through the darker tunnel behind an older man in slacks. When she boarded the plane, she was greeted by another cheerful hostess. She gave the woman a nice hello, but Marta wanted nothing more to just get to her seat... And make sure Aaron was there.

Sure enough, as Marta pulled her bag through the small aisle, she saw Aaron in one of the back seats of the plane. Their gazes met, and she let out a small sigh of relief. She could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face before his eyes moved away from hers. The look they shared was brief, and to anyone on the plane it would have seemed like two strangers that just so happened to make accidental eye contact. Yet to the two of them, it was so much more. It meant that both of them were safe, that no one had found them or attacked them. It meant that the simple kiss on the cheek Marta had given Aaron wasn't their last. And for them, in the given circumstances, that meant the world.

The man sitting next to Marta offered to put her bag in the compartment above them for her, to which she obliged with a small thank-you. Aaron watched her sit down, and he felt a pang of envy towards the man, which seemed ridiculous for such a small thing. But he wanted to do that for Marta. He wished he could sit with her, hold her hand and _be_ with her. Of course, he knew he needed to keep up the charade, much like she had done near the little coffee shop. Aaron saw how amazing she was at blending in. His warrior was more capable than she knew.

There was a lot her wanted to tell her. He wanted to give her all the information he acquired, from their stolen laptop and the little flash drive he had, while he was waiting for the flight to board. This flight was taking them to Amsterdam, and from there they would drive to Berlin. Aaron knew exactly who they had to look for once they got there. But he kept this information to himself and sat in his seat.

Instead he thought of Marta's laugh and Kennedy's smile.

**-oOo-**

Kennedy sat on her cot, shoulders slumped forward. Her thumb ran across the underside of her knuckles, and she merely stared across the room at the blank wall. With the white bricks and empty room aside from the bed and a small sink, she felt like she was in an insane asylum. She _could_ be going insane for all she knew.

With a huff, she stepped up from the cot and paced to the sink. A dingy old mirror was fastened to the wall above it, a large crack running down its right side. Kennedy took a long look at herself, and she didn't like what she saw. Her black eye was still noticeable, but thanks to her advanced healing it already had a slight yellowish-green spot forming. The cut on her lip was still noticeable, but the female guard who brought her new clothes had given her antiseptic early this morning so it wouldn't get infected.

_So caring_, she thought with a snarl.

Kennedy's eyes were bloodshot and had bags underneath from a lack of sleep. Being in this facility for the past two nights had been rough on her, especially after guards took her out of bed last night at an ungodly hour to take her blood. Kennedy shuddered at the thought of the hallucinatory drug they had given her.

Since then, Kennedy hadn't heard a word from Byer. It was the evening of her third night here, and other than receiving her meals she hadn't heard from anyone. She walked back over and plopped down on her cot, eyeing the plastic tray that the guard hadn't come back to collect yet. Kennedy wondered what Byer could possibly be _doing_ with that sample of blood. She automatically assumed that he knew she had inherited her father's enhanced chromosomes, so there was really no point in hiding that anymore.

Kennedy lightly kicked the tray. There was nothing to do in the room, and she wished she had something to read or something to do. She laughed at herself.

_Sort out your priorities, Kennedy._

The door to her room buzzed before slowly opening to reveal Byer.

"Good evening, Miss Cross," Byer said to her. "If you could come with me, please."

Kennedy hesitated before standing up and following him out the door. He closed it behind them with a click and another buzz. She was surprised he came in alone, but when they entered the hallway two guards were stationed right next to the doorway. Kennedy eyed them apprehensively as she walked behind Byer.

"No need to worry about them, Kennedy," Byer told her as she heard the guards' footsteps follow her down the hallway. "Your last… encounter was just a fluke."

A fluke? She tried not to laugh out loud.

_"Well, I told the guards to get you here by any means necessary," he muttered. "I guess they took that to heart."_

Kennedy and Byer reached a door on the right of the hall. He moved towards the keypad above the handle and typed in a code. Much like Kennedy's holding room's door, it buzzed before Byer opened it. He gestured for her to walk in, to which she did, begrudgingly. Inside was a set of four chairs, sitting alone in the middle of the room. She recognized the older man and the pepper-haired man, but now there was a new person here… a woman. Deep-set wrinkles were in her face and her brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail.

"Sit," Byer said.

Kennedy faltered, glancing at the three people at the room and back at the doorway. The guards were still out in the hall. She had no option of escaping, so she slowly sat down in one of the chairs.

"What is this all about?" she asked Byer as the guards joined them in the room.

Byer shut the door before answering her. "We've found out some very interesting information from your blood sample that we collected."

_More like stole_, Kennedy thought.

"You've been keeping some crucial information from us, Kennedy," Byer stated.

He paced in front of her chair and kneeled down so he was closer to her eye level. She didn't like it – it made her feel like a child.

"Did you think we wouldn't eventually figure out that you had your father's enhancements?" Byer asked her.

"I preferred to keep it on a need to know basis," Kennedy muttered, a scowl forming on her face.

"I don't think you understand the severity of this," Turso spat, taking Kennedy by surprise. "You see, if you have not already noticed, Outcome has become a failed program. We are trying to _end it_. There is someone, your father, running around with chromosomal enhancements that make virtually no one a match for him, and he isn't on our side. We wanted to put an end to these advantages, but now someone else has popped up with the same enhancements – _you_. Do you see the problem with this?"

Kennedy kept his gaze.

"Now, as much as you like to keep up this little resilient act of yours, you are not nearly as much of a concern as your father," Turso said. "We need him out of the picture, and then I suppose we can focus on you."

Kennedy grew angry yet scared at the same time.

"Your father and your mother are after you, obviously. They're going to try to get you back, and I'm sure they're not going to go down without a fight," Turso murmured. "As ungodly sappy as it sounds, they love you and see you in a certain way. That's where were going to have to do… some work, per se."

"What do you mean by _that_?" Kennedy asked. If he was implying that she was going to do something for them, there was no chance in hell that she'd agree to it.

"It means there are going to be some changes around here…" Byer told her.

Ward pushed a button on a wall, and heavy-duty metal shakes captured Kennedy's wrists and ankles.

"Starting with you," he said.

"_What is going on_?" Kennedy shouted.

The two guards brought forward a cart containing a small oxygen-like tank with a connected mask. One held Kennedy's shoulders back so she couldn't move away from them, and her eyes grew wide in fear.

"What is that?" she yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Given your current mindset, you are not cooperative. If things are going to go as planned, we're going to need your full support," Byer said.

And inside the tank was Byer's Phase Two. It was a recent concoction by their scientists: a gas that brainwashes the user. Kennedy had the strength to be able to fight relatively any grown male, not to mention the wit. Once Kennedy awoke without a single memory before then, the CIA would retrain her for their side. The old Kennedy would cease, and the new girl would unknowly lead her parents right to their demise.

"We'll see you when you wake up, Kennedy," Byer told her.

She screamed as the guard not holding her back placed the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. For a few seconds, her screaming continued, muffled by the mask. Yet after a few seconds, she silenced. Her eyes glazed over before shutting completely.

Byer smiled to himself. Kennedy June Cross was gone.

* * *

**So now Kennedy will be working for Byer and unknowingly against Aaron and Marta. What do you think will happen next? Leave me a review and let me know. Much love! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I do not own the Bourne series. The characters are not of my creation, and all rights go to the respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**I know. I'm a terrible updater. But I hope this will make up for it. Thanks to Bthedancer14, CommChatter, and imaninja41 for reviewing, and to Katie for motivating me to get off my ass and update.  
**

* * *

_The two guards brought forward a cart containing a small oxygen-like tank with a connected mask. One held Kennedy's shoulders back so she couldn't move away from them, and her eyes grew wide in fear._

_"What is that?" she yelled. "What are you doing?"_

_"Given your current mindset, you are not cooperative. If things are going to go as planned, we're going to need your full support," Byer said._

_And inside the tank was Byer's Phase Two. It was a recent concoction by their scientists: a gas that brainwashes the user. Kennedy had the strength to be able to fight relatively any grown male, not to mention the wit. Once Kennedy awoke without a single memory before then, the CIA would retrain her for their side. The old Kennedy would cease, and the new girl would unknowingly lead her parents right to their demise._

_"We'll see you when you wake up, Kennedy," Byer told her._

_She screamed as the guard not holding her back placed the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. For a few seconds, her screaming continued, muffled by the mask. Yet after a few seconds, she silenced. Her eyes glazed over before shutting completely._

_Byer smiled to himself. Kennedy June Cross was gone._

Hours went by, and those hours stretched into a day. Ward and Ingram offered to switch on and off for watch duty, but Byer could not leave. He had seen a lot in his years, but this brainwashing gas was an enigma to him. Byer wanted to see it through, from the second Kennedy woke.

But that time did not come for several hours more. So he waited. And watched. Drank a coffee and watched some more.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Kennedy stirred.

-oOo-

_The gas penetrated Kennedy's nose and mouth. She felt it come on like thick smoke, making it hard to breathe. And so she closed her eyes, no longer able to fight it. _

_But she opened them again, and she was in a dark room. Shadows, so human-like in shape and form, crawled and prowled against the walls. They were whispering things, but they were so faint that she couldn't make out what was being said._

_A girl flashed before her, and what was so shocking was that it was her… but not _really _her. This Kennedy had different, piercing eyes, different posture, and a different air that screamed _danger_ to the real Kennedy._

"_Hello, Kennedy dear," she purred._

"_Who are you?" Kennedy questioned, cutting to the chase._

_The other Kennedy smiled. "Why, I'm you, of course."_

"_No you aren't," Kennedy muttered, verging on the edge of a hysterical shriek. _

"_Well, I'm not you _yet_, I should say, but I will be," she teased._

_Kennedy didn't understand, and the other one laughed._

"_Okay, let me explain this in a way that maybe you'll understand," she told her. "You're gonna take a trip. Go away for a little while."_

"_Like hell I will," Kennedy spat._

_The other Kennedy's face twisted into utter delight as a cackle rose from her throat. Yet as soon as her amusement came, it faded in an instant when she gave the real Kennedy a stone cold glare that sent a chill down her spine._

"_You think you're tough, Kennedy? You think you're strong?" alter Kennedy asked. "I may not be you yet, but I _am_ a part of you. A part of your mind. The gas Byer gave you has, how do you say… brought me to life. Now, I'm here to take over, and you're going to help me."_

"_No," Kennedy muttered. "I will never help you."_

"_What are you going to do about it? Fight me?" the other Kennedy mocked. "Do it, Kennedy. Fight me!"_

_The evil Kennedy swung a punch, and Kennedy dodged it. Her doppelganger kept swinging and kicking and moving towards her, pushing Kennedy farther back._

"_Face it, Kennedy. You can't defeat me," the alter Kennedy sneered. The shadows on the walls began to edge forward, but she held up a hand to stop them. They froze where they floated._

"_I am so much stronger than you," other Kennedy said. "All of your fear has made me into what I am – powerful. You like to act tough, but no matter how you come across you have _so much fear_. Fear and loneliness and sadness that flows into me."_

_Kennedy tried to back away from her alter ego, but she followed her._

"_Where's mommy and daddy, Kennedy? Aren't they coming after you?" evil Kennedy taunted. "Do you want them to save you? Ha. Forget it. They're gone and they're never coming back-"_

"_STOP IT!" Kennedy screamed, finally managing to through a punch back. This angered the other Kennedy, and her face contorted into pure rage. Her hands flew out, and she shoved Kennedy violently. She pushed and pushed until Kennedy fell backwards, tumbling to the ground and falling into… a cage. A cage that the evil Kennedy had strategically maneuvered her into. _

_Alter Kennedy threw the door shut, locking Kennedy inside. She climbed up off the ground and grabbed onto the bars, shaking them vigorously in an attempt to free herself. Yet even though she possessed her father's extreme strength, she couldn't escape. _

"_What the hell are you doing? Get me out of here!" Kennedy screeched._

_The other Kennedy looked down at her own hands, curling in her finger tips to form fists. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Even though it wasn't actually visible, Kennedy could just sense the power running through the veins of her doppelganger. She laughed almost silently._

"_I can't let you out, not anymore. Especially because of what you've now given me," the other Kennedy told her. "I'm no longer part of you… I am my own being."_

_Kennedy watched in fear as the girl finally opened her eyes. _

"_And now I'm going to be heading out. Enjoy your stay, Kennedy. It's been nice doing business with you," she laughed._

_So the alter Kennedy began to fade away, along with the shadows. And as she faded away, so did Kennedy's memories. Kennedy was stuck in a cage in the back of her mind. This was her prison, and she no longer had control. Of course, none of these visions were real. The evil one and the shadows and the cage were all an illusion that her mind was playing on her, courtesy of the gas. But Kennedy's memories were slipping away from her, that part was very real. It was if Kennedy was losing complete use of her body… although, the physical control was there. Her mind was a blank slate. A clean slate that could be manipulated by someone with the skill to do so. _

_But no one could anticipate the lasting effects of the gas, and how they'd come back to attack…_

-oOo-

The girl opened her eyes to a florescent light right above her face, and white tile ceiling dotted with dirt and spots of age. She slowly sat up on a table, unaware of where she was, and was met with dull grey walls. It gave her no hints to her location.

"Glad to see you're awake," a male voice said to her. She did not recognize it, but something about the voice made her turn abruptly toward the sound, fists clenched at her sides. The girl was met with a slim male who had blue eyes and a mole above his lip. She took him in, and he seemed to be doing the same to her. His piercing blue eyes studied her face, watching her.

"Where am I?" the girl asked, ending the seemingly endless staring contest the two were having.

"You don't know?" the man asked her.

She said nothing, only merely shaking her head.

He sighed, cupping the back of his neck with his hands. "This is worse than I thought."

"_Where am I_?" she asked again, more demanding this time.

"You're in the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States' Berlin facility," the man told her.

When the girl remained silent once more, he asked, "You really don't remember _anything_?"

She shook her head again.

"Name? Do you remember your name? Age?" he questioned.

"I don't remember _anything_," the girl emphasized.

Despite the situation, the corner of the man's mouth turned up into a smile. She had spunk.

"Your name is Adriana. Adriana May. You are fifteen years old," the man told her.

"And _you_ are?" she inquired.

He chuckled. "Eric Byer. I work for the CIA."

"Okay then, Mr. Byer," the girl said in a way that was almost condescending. "What exactly am I doing here, then?"

Byer looked at her for a moment before clasping his hands together. "You're an agent for the CIA. The first teenage operative we've ever had. And the reason you're in this particular situation, with no memories of your past, is due to some… complications with your last mission."

She scoffed at him. "Yeah, okay. _Sure_."

"Grant it, it may seem farfetched, but it's the truth," he muttered. "You're a trained agent. One of our best."

The girl slid off the table and onto her feet. "I don't believe this crap."

Byer began to get up to stop her from leaving, but instinctively she prepared herself to defend, throwing her hand out and grabbing his arm.

"Do you see this?" he asked her as she quickly drew her hand away, confused by her knee-jerk reaction. "Even though you may have lost a majority of your memory, that core training you received is still in your mind. You have a fighter's instincts, Adriana."

She looked down at her hands, still slightly bewildered that she all but jumped at Byer the second he looked like he was moving towards her. It made her think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't lying to her after all.

She looked back up at him, with a very slight, dull throb in her temple. "You said I lost my memory due to complications with a mission?"

"I figured you'd be curious about that," Byer said with a nod. "Walk with me."

He turned to leave the room and reluctantly, but obediently, she followed. And as Byer walked down the hallway, he thanked his luck and his ability to lie through his teeth. Kennedy believed the charade, although he couldn't exactly call her Kennedy anymore. Rather, he was pleased that Adriana still had Kennedy's fighting instincts, which better helped him to convince her that she was a spy working for the CIA.

Byer led Kennedy down the hall and into a doorway on the right, which led to the main control room of the facility. He had first taken Kennedy here when she arrived several days ago, and he watched her intently as she scanned the room. In her eyes, he saw more surveying the room than recognition.

When Kennedy looked around, almost everyone's eyes were on her. She hated the feeling that they were all staring her down, so she crossed her arms and looked at Byer.

"Mission complications?" she asked once more, with the raise of her eyebrows.

"Ingram, pull the files up onto the big screen," Byer said.

A more plump man with glasses took a seat in front of one of the many computer monitors in the room, and with a few clicks the photos of two people appeared on the screen. Kennedy studied them. One was a woman, with dark brown hair. In her photo, she had black-framed glasses perched upon her pale face. The other photo was that of a man with lighter hair than the female, and striking grey-blue eyes.

"Do you have any vague idea of who these two people are?" Byer questioned.

Arms still crossed over her chest, Kennedy approached the screen to get a better look. With narrowed eyes, she surveyed the photos, but no bells went off.

"Nothing?" Byer asked.

Kennedy didn't meet his gaze, but rather continued to look at the pictures. She could tell by the way he was questioning her that she was supposed to remember something, but what it was she had no idea.

"I… no. Nothing," she muttered. The throbbing in her temple was starting to become a little more painful.

"These are photographs of Aaron Cross and Marta Shearing," Byer told her. "And, upon first glance, would you be able to tell that these are two of the top enemies of the United States of America and the Central Intelligence Agency?"

Kennedy almost laughed and gestured to the screen with her thumb. "_These_ two?"

He chuckled. "Yes, but of course appearances can be deceiving. You are an example of that. A seemingly innocent fifteen year old girl, but one of the best assets the CIA has in the field… or had."

Kennedy kept her eyes on him, a silent approval to keep talking.

"Your mission was to take out Cross and Shearing," Byer informed her. "You were to find them and gain their trust so they would be easier to eliminate. Unfortunately, your cover was blown and they kidnapped you. They betrayed the CIA – Cross was a former field agent and Shearing a scientist. They tried to feed you lies about our organization, tried to make you doubt yourself and your cause. You were trying to protect _your_ country, but they didn't see it that way. According to some security footage from the location they held you, we saw that you attempted to fight back, but you were knocked unconscious. A few of our agents recovered your body not too far from here, and we brought you back."

Kennedy looked back at the screen. Despite everything that Byer said, she couldn't imagine that those two people up on the screen could be traitors. Maybe the man, but Kennedy saw that innocent look in the woman's eyes.

"We were hoping that their lies didn't affect you in any way, but when I just found out that you had amnesia… well, I realized that wasn't necessarily the biggest issue to face," Byer said.

Kennedy glanced at him. "What were Cross and Shearing trying to convince me of?"

"We… really only picked up bits and pieces of the conversations you three had, but that's really not important," he told her. "What's important is that we're going to need to find a new way to get them once and for all."

Kennedy now rubbed her head, trying to subdue the rising pain. Byer noticed, but he was so pleased with how Kennedy accepted the lies he fed her that he pushed it to the back of his mind.

She wished Byer would give her more details – and, on top of that, she cursed her foul luck that she had no memories of anything. Byer seemed almost secretive in regards to bits and pieces of her back story.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Kennedy questioned in response to Byer's goal.

"Well, you'd help us of course, correct?" Byer asked her, but because of the circumstances she had a feeling that it was more of a statement than a question.

"I mean, I suppose I should finish what I started, but now that they know me I'm not sure how much help I'd be," she muttered.

Byer actually smiled. "You underestimate yourself, Adriana. You don't know how much of an advantage you'll give us."

And it was true, what Byer said. Kennedy would be the perfect decoy to lure her parents into the CIA's grasp, and thanks to her complete lack of memory she'd do it willingly.

Before Kennedy could ask him to elaborate, two guards approached her and offered to escort her to the room in which she'd be staying.

"We're going to have you recap your training soon," Byer stated. "For now, relax. You deserve it."

* * *

**Now Kennedy believes she is Adriana May. With these new ideas and false memories in her head, what will happen to Aaron and Marta? Stay tuned to find out ;)**


End file.
